Queen of Thorns
by Xandurpein
Summary: This is the full story of Prince Michael Cousland and Queen Anora, amidst intrigue and politics. A lot of the content has been previously been released as separate stories, but I have now edited it into one long story, with several new chapters.
1. Post Coronation

_This the complete story of Queen Anora and Prince Michael Cousland, and their rocky relationship as they try to negotiate politics, drama and even romance in an arranged marriage._

_Parts of this story has been released as separate shorter stories. __Chapters 1-6 where originally published as "Luck and Destiny" and are largely unchanged. Chapters 7-12 where orginally published as "A Rose among Thorns" with some editing to the last chapter. Chapters 15-23 were originally released as "For the honor of the Queen." _

* * *

Chapter 1. Post Coronation

The large throne room in Denerim was filled with nobles and dignitaries. Inside this grand hall it was almost possible to forget the signs carnage and destruction that had still not been removed from the ravaged city. Ferelden had survived the storm of a Blight, and a new Queen had been crowned. The centre of attention was not the Queen however, but her betrothed, Michael Cousland, the hero and savior of Ferelden. Noblemen, guards and servants all wanted to congratulate him, talk to him, touch him or just catch a glimpse of him.

It was more than anything else his day of glory. From the ashes of his family's destruction he stood before them, a triumphant, conquering hero. The bold knight who had received the Queen's hand in marriage as reward. He wished with all his weary heart that the day would soon be over. He felt too empty and lonely to be able to enjoy any of it.

Michael wryly admitted that he was actually grateful for Anora's insistence that he should appear in full battle armor at the Coronation. However cumbersome the massive plates of dragon bone were, they felt like an extra barrier from the crowd surrounding him. A shell to retreat within.

He saw Fergus smiling in his direction. Of all the things that had happened today, seeing his brother again was the one thing that had really made him happy. All this time he had felt the duty as the last living Cousland as an almost crushing burden. It wasn't until his parents death that he had truly come to appreciate what it meant to have all those traditions rest on his shoulders. That it was up to him and him alone now, to carry the family name. The thought that Fergus was still there, to share that burden with him, meant more than any friendship in the world.

He smiled back at Fergus. He felt the urge to talk some more to him, but he didn't quite knew what to say. As happy as he was, he also felt a distance between them. He had yet to figure out how to pick up their relationship after everything that happened to him. He felt so different from the hopeful reckless man he had been a year ago. Maybe Fergus own losses had changed him too.

Not far from Fergus, he saw Loghain standing with a slightly bored look. In the short time he had come to know the man he had developed a certain respect for him and he even believed it was mutual, but he never stopped feeling awkward with Loghain, not to mention the fact that he soon would be his father in law. Michael had seen how Anora seemed to make a point of ignoring him the entire ceremony. Loghain seemed almost like an anachronism to Michael, as if he was out of place and belonged to a previous era.

Michael saw a smiling Leliana standing in a circle of admirers. Retelling the tale of their adventure, and doubtlessly adding new things every time. Since his betrothal to Queen Anora, the redhead rogue had treated him as if their relationship only had been a minor flirt, hardly worth mentioning. He was sure it had been more than that, even if the right moment never had seemed to come for them, or the right word never had been spoken. He was being childish and he knew it. He was the one who had finally doomed whatever their relationship might have become, when he proposed to the Queen, but some part of him still resented that she had accepted it so lightly.

While Michael was lost in thoughts, Queen Anora regarded him from her corner, near one of the huge bonfires that warmed the hall. Not for the first time she wondered if it had been a terrible mistake to accept his bold proposal. She had been convinced that Michael would force her into marrying Maric's bastard son, to placate Eamon. She was even half-resigned to it, when he had surprised her with his offer. Her instinct had been to try and talk him out of it, but to have the such a hero, and a Cousland at that, by her side seemed the ideal solution to solidify her reign. She had also been only too aware of Arl Eamon's schemes to dare refuse him.

She had finally reached the goal of her ambition. She was the ruling Queen of Fereldan. She would never again be over shadowed by her father or Cailan again. Instead however she had given her hand to this Hero of Fereldan, as she had herself had named him. Michael Cousland, the man who had led the country's armies to victory against the Blight. The Warden hero who even had slain the Archdemon and lived. She was still trying to determine who he really was, but what she had seen so far was enough to cause her concern.

Anora found herself wondering what her future husband really wanted from their alliance. A title and influence, that was obvious, but what else? She had long since realized that a Queen had no business letting herself be ruled by romantic fancy, but that didn't mean she couldn't allow herself to hope that he might be more a pleasant partner than Cailan. She still knew nothing of his true ambition though. Was he content to be her consort or did he aim higher. She had after all ruled Fereldan in all but name, during Cailan's reign. Did he harbor similar thoughts?

She couldn't help but compare him to her father. His massive armor was made of dull grey dragon bone and spoke of business rather than royal finery, just like her father's. Not like the gold and silverite plated suits Maric and Cailan had sported. He was tall and imposing. His raven hair was slightly unruly and the fringe just bit too long. He had the same unidentifiable aura of command her father had, made only more attractive in him by the fact that he often seemed unaware of it. He would be a difficult ally to control at best, she realized, and at worst a formidable enemy.

In the meantime Michael turned to look at Anora. She had her blonde hair carefully braided and rolled into two austere buns. Even alone in a corner of the hall she was beautiful and regal he thought, but she also looked oddly lonely and almost a little lost. When he watched her, he wondered why she seemed to avoid the celebrations. It was her triumph as much as his, and yet she seemed to shy away from the crowd. Not for the first time did he wonder what life as her husband would be.

He remembered the day in Denerim when he had worked up the nerve to ask for her hand in marriage. It had seemed so logical then. It was obvious that Alistair was frightened by Eamon's insistence that he should assume the Crown and he had probably been a bit scared of the Queen too. He himself had felt the burden of his Cousland heritage and realized that a bond with the Queen could maybe in one move make up for all the terrible things that had happened to his family.

In truth Anora's reputation as a determined and efficient ruler had only made the proposal seem more attractive then. For over a year now he had felt the crushing burden of authority and responsibility. He had felt just relief at the thought of letting her assume responsibilities he was weary of.

The unbidden image of Alistair in his mind brought bile to his throat. Alistair had in the short span he had known him become the sort of childhood best friend he had never had, or so he had believed. But in the final confrontation he had realized that he had never really known the man. Alistair had abandoned him, the war and everything they had strived for, when Michael had been pushed to let Loghain become a Grey Warden by Riordan.

How could things have possibly come to that? How could their bond have been broken over the fate of the tortured figure of Loghain? He still could not see how he could have acted differently, but neither could he really fault Alistair. He couldn't make up his mind if Alistair had betrayed him, or if he had betrayed Alistair. All he knew was that it had left an open wound in his soul, festering with doubt and regret.

He suddenly realized that Anora had noticed him and was looking back at him. He heaved a sigh. Even if he wanted to retreat from the celebrations he knew he ought to talk to her. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and made his way past the people surrounding him and walked across the stones of the hall towards her. Anora waited for him straight and still.

"Allow me to offer you my personal gratulations Warden," she said as she acknowledged him with the a slight graceful curtsey. Her voice was neutral and business like.  
"I must admit that while I did not share my father's pessimism regarding the Grey Wardens, I had my doubts that so small a number of you could be victorious. Yet... here you are." Her voice trailed off.

For moment the silence between them grew awkward. Michael relived the final battle in his head again. The desperate charge, the street battles, Riordan's mad leap to his death and the final dreadful fight against the Archdemon. It didn't quite seem real to him, more like a bad dream.

"We... we were lucky," he said and realized he meant it.

"The Maker smiles upon you, or so they are saying," Anora replied, still maintaining her composure. "Luck and destiny are two branches of the same tree."

He looked at her silently. He suddenly realized that her feelings may not be so different from his own. She had lost a great deal to achieve this victory too. Did she wonder why her father had betrayed her, or indeed if she had betrayed him? The silence between them dragged on and he felt his embarrassment grow.

"At any rate, I understand that preparations are underway for our wedding," Anora suddenly said, stumbling a little on the words. "Are you nervous?" she asked him almost shyly.

Michael looked quizzically at her. She had sounded so unlike the woman he had come to expect. He knew her as a regal Queen and formidable politician. He hadn't quite been able to picture her as a nervous bride. Was he nervous? He had thought he had long since resigned himself to the inevitable, but now he realized that Anora still could make him feel nervous and awkward.

"Perhaps a little," he admitted.

"Good," Anora said and smiled in relief. "I feel the same. You are quite... intimidating you know."  
The woman looked almost bashful as she said it, he thought. She found him intimidating? If anything, he was a bit in awe of her.

"I guess that makes two of us then," he answered her smiling. "You are quite formidable yourself." Anora giggled, but then her face sobered.

He wanted desperately to say something before this moment passed, but he felt drained and almost numbed by everything that had passed in the last few days.

"I guess we ought to make the best of things together now, you and I, he said finally."

"I suppose so, she answered him tonelessly."

For a moment she avoided his gaze, but then she suddenly composed herself and was all business again.

"We will need to speak more of the role you wish to play. As hero of Ferelden, there are many opportunities, she said. But that can wait. For now enjoy the celebration. We can speak further when the day is done."

Michael realized that the conversation was over and retreated down to the revelry below. He took a deep breath and prepared to smile yet some more and to be displayed to the eager crowd outside.

Anora watched Michael as he made his way through the celebrants below. He had a disarming demeanor that somehow made it so easy to confide in him, she thought. She had not meant to admit any of her thoughts about the wedding to him, and yet somehow he had made seem a natural thing to do. Nor did he seem afraid to bare similar thoughts to her. She didn't know what to make of him. Anora continued to look at him all the way until he had passed out through the huge doors.


	2. A Day in Court

Chapter 2. A Day in Court

Anora sat in her chamber looking critically at her appearance in the mirror. The chamber was a small cubicle adjoining the bedroom with her more intimate personal belongings. Erlina was carefully braiding her blonde hair. Anora knew she was still considered something of a beauty, and even if she could see the first signs of age showing in her face, they were still possible to hide.

"He is very handsome, your new husband, is he not?" Erlina said.

"I suppose." Anora replied guardedly.

"Do... do you like the Prince then?" Erlina asked timidly.

Did she like him? Anora wondered. It was a week since the wedding ceremony and she had not made up her mind about her new husband. So far he had been courteous without fault, but in truth she had not seen much of him. It's not that she had been consciously avoiding him, or at least that is what she told herself, but organizing the rebuilding of the ravaged country took all her effort. She simply had no time to deal with Michael too.

"He is not so bad, I suppose." Anora answered finally.

So far he had fulfilled the duties she had set before him well. She had let him be in charge of rebuilding Denerim's defenses. There were several breeches in city wall that had only been temporarily repaired, and the guard force was still low on strength, but things where now looking a lot better than before Michael had started to deal with it. He certainly seemed capable, but that wasn't necessarily all good, especially as he was also immensely popular.

"At least he knows to treat you right, no?" Erlina said as she begun to roll the braids into buns and pin them to the back of Anora's head.

Anora grimaced. The wedding night had been an awkward thing. As far as she was concerned their marriage was a business arrangement and false closeness did not enter into the picture. She was prepared to do her duty in the bed chamber, but his eagerness to try and please her in various ways beyond what was needed for the act, only served to prolong things unnecessarily.

Part of her knew she was being unfair to him. She could not really fault him for trying to make their moments in bed pleasing. He just unnerved her. She got the feeling that he was used to a different reception from women and his attempts only made her feel inadequate. And that was a feeling she had spent all her life fighting.

Erlina finished Anora's coiffure, and Anora rose. She had to find Master Felham and go over the latest numbers on the taxes from the Bannorn. Technically it could wait, but she wanted it done as soon as possible.

"I'll be in in the treasurer's office Erlina. Please arrange so that anyone seeking me knows and have them wait until tomorrow."

"As you wish my Lady, but... "

"What is it?" Anora asked irritably.

"My Lady, the Prince - you husband. He... he said he needed to talk to you," Erlinas voice trailed off.

"He'll just have to wait. I have more important things now," Anora said. She was going to deal with her husband, but not just now.

* * *

Half an hour later Michael knocked on the door to Anora's study. Erlina opened the door for him.

"Erlina, Is my wife in?" Michael asked her, smiling at her.

"I... I'm sorry my Lord. But the Queen, she is in the treasurer's office and begs you to seek her tomorrow instead," Erlina answered excusing. Michael's smile froze.

"I suppose she must be very busy then," he said in a tired voice. "Just tell her that unless she is willing to discuss funding, the the dwarves, who supervise the rebuilding of South Gate, will leave. If that matters to her that is."

"My Lady... she has a lot of things on her mind. I'm sure she just forgot about it." Erlina wrung her hands.

"Don't bother. We both know she is just avoiding me," Michael retorted angrily and Erlina's eyes widened. He cringed inwardly. He was surprised at how bitter had sounded. He had no business taking it out on a servant.

"Erlina, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound like that," Michael said.

"My Lord," Erlina whispered. "You don't need to apologize to me."

"But I do. Whatever happens you are loyal to my wife and Queen, you always have been. I owe you gratitude for that and my harsh words shame me. She is lucky to have you. We both are." Michael offered her a brief smile and then he bowed to her and left.

Erlina watched him leave, regarding him carefully. The Queen is lucky to have you too, my Prince, she thought to herself, even if she doesn't realize it yet.

* * *

Michael went down to the officers quarters and called for a young man at arms to follow him to the inner courtyard. He needed to work off his frustration and physical combat was the best way he knew for that.

As he let his squire help him put on his armor, he studied his opponent. She was new here in Denerim, but he prided himself on knowing his men by name. Then he remembered, her name was Mhairi. Captain Kylon had spoken highly of her prowess, and mentioned that she had even expressed a wish to join the Grey Wardens. Michael knew they would eventually have to recruit new Grey Wardens, even if he had put such thoughts off. He was still not sure of how he felt about asking other men and women to take that terrible test.

Mhairi was glowing with anticipation as she donned her battle gear. She was going to test her prowess against the famous Warden Prince. She had vowed to become worthy to join the Grey Wardens herself one day. To meet the Hero of Fereldan like this was her chance to prove herself.

An hour later Mhairi was sweating profusely in her heavy armor. She had ignored the snide remarks from the other men at arms around her, when the Prince had called her. Now she begun to understand the reason for their amusement. Sparring with the Prince was brutal.

He had a fluid, hypnotic motion that somehow made him lightning fast, even if he seemed to move slower to the eye. Over and over he landed blows on her that seemed to come out of nowhere. She narrowly avoided a heavy swing only to fall over and crash to the ground, when the Prince followed up the swing with a shield bash, putting his entire weight behind the blow.

Mhairi lay dazed and humiliated on the ground. She tasted blood in her mouth and her vision was blurred.

"I think we are done for the day. Good work Mhairi." Michael said and nodded to her.

"You... you're too kind Your Highness," Mhairi answered weakly.

* * *

A bit more relaxed Michael waved the squire off and removed his armor himself. Then he lowered himself into a large hot water tub. Mhairi had been surprisingly good. Maybe she still fought a bit too nicely. There was little room for chivalry when fighting darkspawn. He hoped he hadn't been too rough on her. He needed the exercise to work out the stress in his body, but he shouldn't have hit so hard.

Anora had made it obvious to him in every possible way that she did not want him to interfere in the day to day running of the state, beyond the purely military matters. Often she seemed to simply avoid him altogether, and whenever he had time to talk to her, she always had some task for him that would take him out of Denerim or otherwise keep him away from her. He had been prepared for her to be suspicious of his motives, but he had harbored hopes that be able to prove her wrong, only she never seemed to give him any chance.

The tasks she had for him where in truth far from taxing. What frustrated him was that he still harbored hopes that he could convince Anora to trust him and maybe even be her friend. He knew his own parents marriage had been arranged for political reasons, and yet they had over the years developed a deep affection and love for each other. Somehow he had thought that was the natural thing to happen.

There had been moments when Anora had seemed to lower her guard and let him see another person behind the frosty exterior she usually reserved for him. When she had let him see the same woman who had seemed so alone at the coronation before, or given him that shy smile. She had a smile to die for, he thought, and yet it was so seldom he could make her show it. He felt inadequate and frustrated. He couldn't even tell what kind of person she wanted him to be for her.

Michael heaved himself out of the wooden tub and let the servant dress him. Then he began to walk away. He would need to placate an angry dwarf at the South Gate with nothing but words, one more day.

* * *

As he walked across the courtyard Michael saw Mhairi come the other way from the women's barracks.

"Thank you Mhairi. That was good sparring," he said, hoping that a few encouraging words would make up for the rough beating he had given her.

"It is I who should thank you your Highness, for showing me your skills. Now I can believe all the tales of the Grey Wardens," she answered him. Mhairi looked at him with such earnest admiration, that he had to smile.

"You honor me. Same time tomorrow perhaps?"

"Of course, your Highness. As you wish." Mhairi straightened herself and saluted him.

Mhairi watched the Prince leave the courtyard, with eyes glowing. Now she could believe all the tales of the Prince. He was as chivalrous as he was skilled in arms. Despite the ease with which he had defeated her, she was more determined than ever to be worthy of joining the Grey Wardens. She could think of no greater honor than to stand side by side with men like him.


	3. Unrest in the Alienage

Chapter 3. Unrest in the Alienage

As Michael made his way out of the Royal Palace, a burly guard hailed him. Michael halted and turned to face the man.

"I beg your pardon, your Highness, I'm sure it's nothing. Only, there are two elves who insist that they have an important message for you."

Michael frowned. He was not expecting any mesage, least of all from any unknown elves.

"Did they mention their errand?" Michael asked.

"No your Highness, they only gave a name. One of them said he was a Vaeln... Valedre.. something like that."

"Elder Valendrian?" Michael asked wondering.

"Yes. That was the name I think. Do you want me to throw them out, your Majesty?"

"Of course not, imbecille! Elder Valendrian is the Hahren of the Alienage. Don't you know anything?"

The Guardsman backed away from the unexpected outburst.

"Just show the elves to my quarters. Take them there personally and make sure they won't be harassed by anyone else on the way."

* * *

When Michael reached the spacious room he used as study and office, he saw that the two elves already waited outside for him, together with the guardsman who brought him the message. One of them was indeed Elder Valendrian, and the other a fiery young redhead he recognized as Shianni, the woman who had helped him expose the Tevinter slavers during the war. Valendrian smiled graciously and bowed when he arrived, but Shianni only gave him the briefest nod, bordering on the insolent.

"Hahren, Shianni, what can I do for you?" he said as he showed them in.

"You can get the Queen to remember that the elves are part of Fereldan just as the humans for a start," Shianni said hotly.

"Now, now Shianni. Mind your manners in front of the Prince," Valendrian cautioned her. Shianni opened her mouth to say something, but then shut it, glaring at the Elder.

Michael waited a moment before saying anything. He knew Shianni for an outspoken woman, but this seemed more than that. She must be genuinely upset about something.

¨"Let's forget protocol and just tell me what it is you want say," he said finally.

"It's the situation in the Alienage," Shianni began, before Valendrian had a chance to open his mouth. "You have seen it with your own eyes. The people... we won't stand for this treatment much longer."

"Would you care to be more specific?"

"It's everything. The food shortage, the guards who won't police the area, all the homeless people from the war. It's... it's just too much." The words seem to pour out of Shianni's mouth.

"A lot of what you describe, are problems for everyone. The war has ravaged the country and we will likely suffer food shortages everywhere until next harvest, and rebuilding homes is on the top of the Queen's agenda," Michael answered diplomatically.

"But not in the Alienage!" Shianni replied hotly. "Everyone knows that there are less houses built for us than for the shem."

"All we are saying, Your Highness, is that many inhabitants in the Alienage feel that the Crown have forgotten the elves," Valendrian cut in. "Even if you think this is wrong, it is still how people perceive things. We have tried to bring this to the Queen's attention, but she has not responded."

"We only hoped that you could talk to the Queen," Valendrian said and looked intently at Michael. "No one will benefit from... unrest."

"I will of course bring your words to the Queen's attention," Michael said slowly. "The country is still in turmoil and her attention is required everywhere, but I'll make sure she hears of your concerns."

"Thank you, your Highness. That is all we ask for," Valendrian replied.

"Unless you happen to have anything, but words to offer, like actually helping people," Shianni muttered to herself.  
Michael decided to pretend to not have heard her. Valendrian had sent him a warning. Unrest was brewing in the Alienage.

As he watched the two elves leave he wondered about the situation. The Alienage had always been the bottom of society. No one spoke for them and no one listened.

He suspected that this was a lot of the real problem. If anything the Alienage had escaped lighter than many other parts of the Denerim, thanks to the spirited defense he had took part in. Now the elves where rightly proud of their actions during the battle, but the humans hardly knew of it.

The isolation led to hopelessness. The few attempts to do something about the situation seemed always to fail because no one expected it to be anything but a failure. What was needed was some authority who could speak for the elves and bring hope so people dared try to build something lasting.

Abruptly Michael rose from his desk. Maybe it was just a technicality, but possible unrest was something that required immediate attention. He had a reason to confront the Queen and he might as well use it. He briskly strode towards the treasury. One way or another he had to get her attention this time.

* * *

One of the guards outside the treasury office opened the door and cleared his throat.

"I beg your pardon Majesty, but the Prince is here to see you," he said bowing.

"Why? What is it?" Anora said, turning towards the door with an annoyed frown.

Michael took a deep breath and then entered the room himself, pushing himself past the guard.

"I really need to talk to you Anora," he said. "Now."

"If it is about the South Gate, I'm sure it can wait," Anora said bristling.

"It's not about the South Gate, and it really can't wait. If master Felham can please spare you, we need to talk. Alone."  
Anora's watched him tensely, then she tossed her head abruptly.

"We'll continue later Master Felham, as soon as my husband and I are done."

"I assume you have a good reason for this husband," Anora said in a brisk, business like tone, once they were alone.

"We need to talk about the Alienage, Anora. It's a mess and we need to do something."

"The Alienage? You disturb me to discuss that? The Alienage has been a mess for a hundred years. Why the hurry to discuss it now?" Anora asked.

"I have received word that there may be unrest, even riots, brewing. We can still stop it, but we need to act soon."

Anora frowned. There had been a few food riots in the east, but unrest in Denerim was bad, even if it was localized to the Alienage.

"I trust the guards are enough to protect the city. Have you identified the leaders? With luck you can arrest them before it spreads," Anora said thoughtfully.

"I was hoping it wouldn't have to come to that," Michael answered her. "I thought we could discuss some concessions to the elves, to placate them."

"We have been through all that before," Anora sighed irritated. "No one should need to starve, but beyond that we have no money to buy more grain. Both humans and elves will have to tighten their belts this year. Didn't you even listen when we discussed it?"

"No Anora I did not. You had forgotten to invite me to the Court meeting yesterday," Michael retorted angrily. He felt a sudden burst of rage. It was one thing to be slighted, but didn't she even remember it?

Anora was taken aback by his outburst. She had never seen him this angry before and she realized that she had forgotten how intimidating he could be. She decided to at least hear him out, until she had figured out how to deal with the situation.

"What do you propose then?" she asked him warily.

"If you say there is no more money for grain, I take your word for it," Michael replied. "You know that better than me. I had something else in mind though and with luck it won't cost us much at all. I want you to appoint Elder Valendrian as royal official with status as Bann for the elves."

"What will that accomplish? Besides making the elves bolder in their demands."

"The problem with the elves are that they are too apart from us. We need a leader we can talk to. If the elves felt we respected their leaders, then I think a lot of the tension will disappear. Besides, we can only benefit from it. You know as well as I do that anything we do for the elves will be undone as long as there is no working administration there."

Anora considered his proposal frowning. If things turned out as he claimed, this idea might actually be a good solution.

"Elder Valendrain is a good man, but does he really have the strength to administer the Alienage?" she asked finally?

"I doubt it," Michael replied. "That's why we should appoint Shianni as his administrator."

"Shianni? Isn't she a trouble maker? Last I heard she was inciting protests against the missing grain deliveries."

"You are missing the point Anora. She is actually organizing something. Don't you realize how rare that is in the Alienage? If she has the drive to do that, then she can do a lot of good too. She is honest and means well, even if she is slow to trust humans. We just have to show her some good will and give her the authority to deal with things. Valendrian will soften her edges."

Anora looked down, but she felt his eyes bore into her. He spoke of the elven girl, but she suddenly realized that he might as well have been talking about himself. She chewed her lip nervously. He did make a lot of sense, if she could trust him.

"I take it you have discussed this proposal with the Elder," she said, finally.

"No Anora I have not," Michael replied slowly. "I think it will be better if you do that."

"You are a good Queen Anora and the people of Fereldan love you, but we have to face it. Too many elves still think that you are only the daughter of the tyrant who sold their families into slavery."

Anora opened her mouth to protest, but Michael motioned her to silence.

"I didn't say it was right or fair, Anora. I only said that it is what they think, and you know that it's true. So if we are to make any concession to the elves it is important that it is seen to be coming from you, not from me."

"This is not a popularity contest Anora," Michael continued softly. "This is what is best for Fereldan and that's why we should do it this way. Right now we still need to unify the country. All of Fereldan, even the elves, should believe in their Queen's mercy and justice."

Anora felt her cheeks heat with shame. What he said was logical and right, but in her heart she had believed that he was only out to make himself popular at her expense. She had misjudged him.

"Very well. I'll make the arrangements you suggested immediately," she said, fighting to regain her composure. "But have the guards be on alert if the worst comes to pass." For a long moment they both remained still, waiting for the other to say something.

"Anora," Michael said finally, breaking the silence. "Whatever you think of me, I have never been your enemy. I want to be your ally, maybe even your friend, but you have to let me."

Anora straightened herself and lifted her head to meet his eyes and nodded slowly.

"Thank you, for... bringing this to my attention. But I must return to Master Felham now. Maybe... maybe you can help us," she continued cautiously. "It might be a good time for you to learn more about these matters, unless you have some other duty that occupies you."

"Not at all Anora, I am at your service," he replied and smiled at her.


	4. Out of Control

Chapter 4. Out of control

Anora was pacing back and forth in the large chamber that served as her primary workplace. A clerk sat dutifully at the desk, prepared to fill a carefully decorated parchment with the Queen's words for the Orlesian ambassador. She opened her mouth to speak, when the sound of metal ringing outside broke the silence.

Anora smiled to herself. She had to admit that her husband had proven to be a far better partner than she had believed at first. He was quick to learn and seemed to grasp the necessities of office well. But mornings like these, he reserved for physical workout. He seemed determined to keep his skills in arms ready, even if it meant bruising the knights he trained with.

Anora didn't mind at all. His legendary prowess was worth battalions of soldiers in deterring enemies. But she also had to admit that she enjoyed those moments of peace, when she could work alone. For all his good intentions Michael had a way of entangling them in endless arguments over ridiculous points in her decisions. He always bowed to her will in the end, but not until he had spent quite some time trying to make her see his way.

At some level she had to admit that her decisions often became much better after such lengthy arguments. Many times he had fair points that she needed to address anyway, but sometimes his arguments seemed just a pointless waste of time. The sheer effort it took them to reach an agreement exasperated her. Still, it could have been a lot worse, she thought.

Anora couldn't resist moving to the window and look down to watch her husband sparring with one of the knights. She saw them circling each other slowly, until they suddenly closed in on each other in a blur of steel. They crashed their shields into each other and then Michael's opponent landed a blow straight on the side of his helmet that sent him reeling.

Michael stood swaying a bit and then removed the helmet.

"My Prince, are you… are you all right? I didn't mean to." Mhairi removed her own helmet and hurried to Michael's side.

Michael shook his head and smiled.

"Nothing to worry about. You know I don't want you to hold back. But I think we're done for the day. I have other duties now. Maker's breath, that was a good blow Mhairi. Well done!"

Mhairi bowed and stammered in gratitude, flushed by his praise.

Above Anora frowned irritated. She didn't care at all for this new warrior woman. Mhairi was obviously infatuated with her husband, even if he pretended to be oblivious about it. The way the woman idolized him openly was sickening.

* * *

"You are late," Anora said curtly as Michael entered the chamber some time later.

"My apologies Anora," he replied frowning, "but I was detained by a messenger from Weisshaupt."

"The Grey Wardens?" She asked him and forgot her irritation.

"Yes. They have sent a detachment of Orlesian Wardens to Amaranthine and this message says I am to assume Command of Vigil's Keep. They wouldn't dare phrase it as an order, but it's obvious that they expect me to come shortly."

"This is a lousy moment for me to leave," Michael sighed. "The trouble in the Bannorn looks like it will deteriorate and we may need to have the army prepared for the worst."

"I agree," Anora said thoughtfully, "but this offer might be hard to decline. While I have every intention of keeping my promise to the Grey Wardens, I would much prefer to have a Fereldan loyal to us in Amaranthine. If you refuse this, Weisshaupt will probably appoint one of the Orlesian Wardens as Commander, and we are already far too exposed to Orlais to leave Amaranthine in the hands of an Orlesian, if we can avoid it."

Michael nodded. While he didn't share her father Loghain's mad fear of everything Orlesian, he didn't trust Orlais good intentions longer than he needed either.

"Then I must go to Vigil's Keep as soon as possible," he said.

Anora remained still for a moment regarding him, and then she nodded.

"Good," she said. "Remember that as Commander of the Grey you will be acting as Arl of Amaranthine too then."

Michael snorted at the thought. He would now be Arl of Rendon Howe's Amaranthine, even if it was only temporary. That was not exactly what he had dreamed of.

"I'll start making the arrangements. Unless you have anything particular that needs my attention, I can have everything in order shortly. We'll leave the day after tomorrow."

"We? You're taking someone with you then?" Anora asked, arching an eye brow.

"Yes. We need to rebuild the Grey Wardens. Mhairi has asked to be allowed to join and I think she'll make a fine recruit."

"I'm sure she will," Anora answered tonelessly. She felt a knot in her stomach.

* * *

That night Anora lay awake in their bed gazing at the fabric above them. Their lovemaking had been brief and business like. She heard on his heavy breathing beside her, that he was already asleep. It had been like that a lot lately, she realized.

She had found herself more and more conflicted about their intimate moments together. She had no idea what he wanted of her and mostly she was just relieved when it was over. Her father's horribly brusque warnings that she ought to hurry up and get with child soon had not exactly helped either.

She had to admit that sometimes, when they were lying silent together under the blankets, she would enjoy the feeling of his warmth touching her in the dark, but other times she just wished she could be alone and didn't have to think about him.

She couldn't help but wonder how long it would be before he abandoned her bed completely for a younger, more willing woman. Like this Mhairi who was obviously fawning on him and would now journey alone with him to Amaranthine. How long would it take before she made a move on him then, out of sight from prying eyes.

So far Anora's careful inquires had not mentioned any secret liaison between Mhairi and her husband, except for the regular training sessions, but she was under no illusions. Men where men, and they would only resist a female admirer so long.

When she had tried to confront him about it, he claimed that Mhairi only wished to become a Grey Warden and no doubt she was naively idolizing him for being the man who had ended the Blight and slain the Archdemon. Michael insisted that, as far as he knew, she didn't have any untoward designs on him. He refused to send her away as she had not acted in any way improperly. Could he really be so dense when it came to women, or was he secretly encouraging the woman behind her back?

She sighed. Even if Mhairi was as innocent as Michael claimed, it was only a matter of time before it would be someone else. It was bound to happen, just like with Cailan, she thought bitterly. She felt a lump in her throat and a sense of loss and loneliness swept over her.

Angrily she turned away from him and curled up under the blankets. Soon he would be gone, she thought, and then she could at least have some peace. And whatever foolishness he would get himself involved in with that woman, would be away in Amaranthine and not the talk on the streets in Denerim.

* * *

Two days later Michael had his old travelling gear brought forth from a chest in his wardrobe. He carefully packed his things himself, dismissing the servants offer to do it. Remembering all too well the last time he had done so, the last night before the final march to Denerim and the fight against the Archdemon.

When he was finished packing, he donned his armor and shield, and took his rune etched long sword that a squire had reverently brought forth. He studied dispassionately the eerie flickering light shining from the tiny gap between hilt and a scabbard.

Mhairi waited for him when he walked out into the main court yard. She had been waiting for almost an hour, too excited to contain herself. Her eyes shone when she saw him come to meet her. Finally her dream would come true. She would be allowed to go through the joining and become a Grey Warden.

The stable hands brought them horses. Two proud destriers and a smaller pack animal. Michael never felt comfortable on horseback, despite her father's insistence that a true Cousland must know how to fight both mounted and on foot.

Michael looked at Mhairi again. He had to smile at her impatience. Alistair would have liked her, he thought to himself. She seemed to have the same ideal vision of the Grey Wardens as he had had. As always he winced a little at the memory of Alistair. He hoped Mhairi wouldn't be as disappointed as his fellow Warden had become.

He had, since his joining, learned that the Grey Wardens where far more often the last chance for thieves and murderers, than the home for chivalrous knights. It felt nice to have Mhairi with him though. Maybe there was hope for a brighter future for the order, if people like her would join the Grey Wardens. Men and women who truly believed in something better than just the grim dark reality.

Anora had avoided him all morning. Michael wondered if that had anything to do with her ridiculous accusation that Mhairi somehow was out to seduce him. He had to acknowledge that young woman seemed to have a slight case of hero worship, something that mostly served to embarrass him. But he had seen nothing to indicate that there were any romantic feelings involved.

As Michael prepared to ride out through the palace gate, he wondered if he should wait for a chance to bid his wife farewell. Then Anora stepped out into the courtyard. Michael bowed to her, and then sought her gaze.

"Farewell husband and good luck," she said formally.

"Thank you Anora and Farewell," he answered. Then he urged the horse out through the gate, while she remained watching him leave.

"Take care of yourself husband," she whispered to herself.

* * *

The following days Anora buried herself in reports on grain deliveries, merchant taxes and the unruly Bannorn, with a grim determination. Once in a while during court she found herself turning to her husband's empty chair for a comment on some difficult technicality, only to purse her mouth and proceed as if nothing had happened.

It was only when she was alone in her private quarters with Erlina that she allowed herself to admit to that having Michael sent away on a long journey, especially when he was accompanied by a pretty young woman, had done nothing for her peace of mind..

She found herself staring at her own image in the mirror, as Erlina combed her hair. What did Michael really see when he looked at her? she wondered. Did he see those lines under her eyes few would yet notice, but she could see all too well? Did he see how the gown cleverly prevented her breasts from sagging? Did he see her as a woman at all, or did he just see a taskmistress?

"Guard!" she called loudly. "Guard!" She waved Erlina off and rose from her chair.

"You Majesty called?" a man at arms asked, peering nervously into the queens private chamber.

"Yes, order a troop of knights assembled. Tell them that they are to escort me to Amaranthine immediately. Tell them I intend to provide the Wardens a formal welcome to Fereldan."


	5. Til Death do us Part

Chapter 5. Till Death do us Part

When Anora's following neared Vigil's Keep they saw more and more signs that something was terribly amiss. The lands around the Keep were deserted when they saw the ancient fortress she could see the big gate open and the doors ajar. Smoke was rising from one of the towers. They hurried towards the fortress.

The first thing she saw as she entered through the gate was a small group of armed people. Her heart skipped as she saw Michael stand in their centre, looking grim, with his armor covered in stains of blood and gore. He looked unhurt, but with all the blood it was hard to tell. She felt a little queasy as she watched him. Anora collected herself and approached them. Michael detached himself from the others knelt to formally greet her.

"It seems we arrived too late to be of assistance," Anora said looking at the group. "My apologies."

"Queen Anora!" Mhairi said wide eyed and knelt behind Michael.

"I had intended to provide the Wardens a formal welcome," Anora said, watching the scene of carnage inside the fortress. "This is unexpected to say the least. What is the situation?"

Varel, the old Seneschal, explained how Darkspawn had killed or abducted all the Orlesian Wardens in a surprise attack. Then Michael had led a small band in a counter attack and killed all the enemies. Anora didn't listen to all of it. She looked worriedly at Michael instead, searching for hints that any of the blood stains where his own.

"I trust you are well husband?" she asked nervously. "No... permanent damage?"

"I'm fine Anora," Michael answered, smiling briefly before becoming serious again. "But this makes things difficult."

"Since when have things ever been simple," Anora sighed.

Anora listened as Varel gave her a quick explanation of the situation. Things appeared to be reasonably under control, but it seemed obvious that Amaranthine was under threat of a darkspawn invasion. She frowned. There was no escaping the decision. Michael would simply have to stay here as Warden Commander and set things in order.

"It troubles me to ask you to leave the court in order to deal with this," she said unhappily. If I had any other choice.

"Don't worry about it. I will deal with it." Michael answered smiling. Anora tried to return his smile.

"And this is why you are a Prince of Fereldan," she said, suddenly feeling proud of him.

He looked so confident and at ease, even amidst the remains of, what must have been a terrible battle. She tried compose herself.

"It will be up to you to deal with the vestiges of the Blight before the situation grows out of control. No easy task, but I'm confident you are up to it," she said, and realized that she really meant it. This was what he was born for.

"Now I shall leave you be, she said and swallowed."

She looked at him and realized that this might be the last she would see of him for months.

"Good luck husband," she finished softly.

* * *

Many weeks later Michael sat awake by the campfire. He unwrapped an oilskin cloth and removed a small journal from it. He opened the cover and saw the funny little drawing on the first page. It was a nug, Leliana had assured him, when she made the drawing. She had always teased him about his journal. He rifled through the pages and remembered everything.

The first page was from Vigil's Keep. He had written it in his private chamber in the top floor of fortress. He assumed that the desk he had used there once had belonged to Rendon Howe, just as everything else in the fortress.

He used Howe's private study for his work, but could not bring himself to use the master bedroom. Instead he had appropriated a smaller chamber that he assumed had belonged to Howe's daughter once. That didn't come without awkward feelings either though, considering that her father had intended to make him marry the girl once.

That day he had been trying to write up a tally of the events of the day, in the leather bound ledger that belonged to the Warden Commander. The ledger contained names of the Grey Warden's of Fereldan, together with dates and places of joinings and deaths.

He had seen his own name on a previous page written in Duncan's slightly haphazard handwriting, and under it Loghain's name, entered by Riordan. Varen had dutifully entered the names of the Orlesian Wardens who had come to Vigil's keep before him. Names he then, as Commander, had had to strike with a note of how and when it had happened.

He had dipped the pen in the ink and drawn a line, then he had begun entering the names of the three new Wardens that had joined today. Anders, the mage. He hoped his instincts was right about him. He felt there was a hidden depth to the seemingly carefree, reckless apostate. Oghren, the self destructive dwarf, who always seemed bent on wrecking his life in new ways.

Nathaniel Howe. Now there was an irony to be sure. He had sat at Rendon Howe's desk and entered the details of how he became the Commander of Howe's own son. He had wanted to hate Nathaniel, but he found it impossible to feel anything but pity for the youth.

Then had he dipped the pen again and started to write one more name. Mhairi. He had tried to steady his hand, but a huge ink blot almost made the name unreadable. Why did Mhairi, of all recruits have to die at the joining? She who truly believed in the finest ideals the Grey Wardens could hope to aspire.

Michael remebered the tears stinging in his eyes. Would it always be like that he wondered? Did becoming a Warden always destroy the decent and good people, or was it just around him? He had ruined Alistair with his decisions and now he had handed Mhairi the cup that had killed her. He wondered how Duncan coped with this burden.

Michael had found himself longing to speak with Anora. She would no doubt have provided him with some perfectly logical reason why it was pointless to dwell too much on what was done, he thought with a wry smile. It was necessary after all. But at least she could understand this solitude. The burden of all those decisions with nowhere to look for strength, but within one self. He realized how much he missed her, despite everything.

That was when he had closed the ledger and started on the first letter to her. He had written more letters since then, but never actually sent any of them. It was just short scribbled notes. Mostly it was only dates and places; Wending Wood, Blackmarsh, Knotwood Hills. It didn't seem worthy of sending a soldier all the way back to Denerim to deliver them. He kept them as a journal for himself, but in his mind he still wrote them as letters to her.

Now Michael sat awake in the night two miles outside Amaranthine, ready to face the darkspawn invasion. He could only hope that the new Grey Wardens would suffice to turn the tide. He put another log on the fire and listened to the silence of the night, trying to decide what to write. Then he began.

When Michael was done he carefully dried the ink and looked and the words he had committed to the paper. He hastily ripped several of the pages from the journal and wrapped them in a piece of waxed parchment and sealed the package.

He called for a scout and gave him instructions to have it delivered to the Royal Palace in Denerim at once. Michael watched the soldier saddle a horse and set off at the gallop into the dark. Then he lay down hoping to catch some rest, before the sun broke.

* * *

Anora woke up startled in her bed, to find Erlina leaning above her.

"What's the matter?" Anora said, trying to gather her wits. "It's the middle of the night. Has something happened?"

"My apologies, your Majesty," Erlina whispered, "but I thought you wanted to know right away. A courier has arrived… from Amaranthine."

"Amaranthine?" Anora bolted upright. "The Wardens, Michael? Is… is he alright?" she asked fearfully.

"The courier says the message came from the Prince in person. He expected a huge battle soon, but the courier left before the battle actually began."

"Then… what did he have to say?" Anora asked.

"Your Majesty," Erlina said hesitating. "I fear that the news are grave. A darkspawn army is marching on Amaranthine. The Prince is leading the Grey Wardens in a counter attack, but according to the messenger they are vastly outnumbered by the enemy. Other messengers claim that Vigil's Keep is fallen, but no one knows for sure."

Anora listened mutely to the news. There had been many wild rumours of the how the Prince had battled darkspawn, monsters and dragons in Amaranthine, but a genuine darkspawn army marching on Amaranthine was a dire threat, and now Michael and a handful of Wardens was all that stood in their path. She tried to remind herself that those had been the odds, when they had faced the Blight and he had slain the Archdemon too, but that did little to calm her.

"Your Majesty," Erlina said softly. "The Prince… he sent you this." She handed her a small wrapped package, sealed with royal seal of Fereldan, to Anora.

Anora pried the seal open, trying to steady her hands, and saw the bundle of torn notes inside.

"Please leave me Erlina," she whispered as she took the papers."

She read the first note describing the new Wardens. At first she felt relief when she read about Mhairi's death, but then it was replaced by guilt and shame. His words spoke of honest grief for a fallen comrade, nothing more.

She skimmed through the papers until she saw the last page. She sat down on the bed and began reading.

"Dear Anora. Tomorrow we march on the enemy, and while I have high hopes that we will see this through, there are things I don't want to have left unsaid between us. I can't help but believe that I have been a disappointment for you. I care for you Anora, and in my naivety I thought that it would be enough, once we got married. I have tried to be worthy of you, and if I have failed, then I hope you can forgive me. Now I will try to do it the best way I know how to, fighting the enemies of our country. Your husband, Michael."

Anora bit her finger as she felt her eyes brimming with tears. He was going to pit his small force of Wardens against the darkspawn army thinking that this was the only way he could be worthy of her. He was wrong, so terribly wrong, she thought desperately. And it's all my fault.

Lying down in her bed she saw memories flood her vision. She saw her father arguing angrily with Cailan, calling him useless and unworthy. She saw Cailan looking at her imploringly for support, and his hurt, bewildered look as she sided with Loghain against him. Cailan who had died at Ostagar thinking he had to do it, to prove that he was worthy of being Maric's son and worthy of her. She saw Michael trying, every way he knew, to please her. She saw him marching down the same path of destruction as Cailan.

"Father," she thought through her tears. "You taught me to be strong and brave. Why couldn't you teach me to be grateful too?" Shaking with grief, Anora cried alone in her big empty bed. She cried for Cailan, for Michael and for the ruin she had made of her life.

"Maker, please let him come back," she whispered into the emptiness. "Make him come back."


	6. A Day for Celebration

Chapter 6. A Day for Celebration

Anora listened with mounting exasperation to the squabble between several of the Bann's present in Court. She had never liked sitting in Court, and much preferred the closer, more orderly, meetings with just the heads of the administrative branches. Now it was an effort in willpower for her to not scream at their petty fights. All she could think of was the lack of news from Amaranthine.

There were plenty of rumors though. The city of Amaranthine had either fallen or miraculously been saved, or possibly both. Vigil's Keep was expected to fall shortly, if it hadn't fallen already. The Wardens, led by the Prince, was rumored to have disappeared into the Underworld to fight alone against source of the darkspawn invasion.

Anora, bit her lip. She remembered the muted discussion she had had with her father. He had explained that it was likely that he didn't have many years left to live, before he would depart for the Deep Roads. That's what Grey Wardens did. They went into the Underworld to die, fighting the darkspawn hordes.

She saw Teyrn Cousland argue with Bann Loren about a bridge tax. At first she had found it hard to believe that Fergus Cousland and Michael where brothers, but now she could see that they had very similar eyes. She cursed herself inwardly. She wasn't concentrating. The discussions where getting heated and several Bann's where looking at her to step in and bring order.

Anora opened her mouth and prepared to speak, when a commotion at the door made her halt. The door flew open and a guard almost stumbled into the room, staring wide eyed and panting.

" What is the meaning of this intrusion?" she asked irritated.

"I… I beg your pardon, your Majesty, but a courier has arrived from Amaranthine," the guardsman said.

"They… they have won, your Majesty. The Prince has led the Grey Wardens to victory. They have defeated the darkspawn and Amaranthine is free!"

Anora gripped the arm rest on the throne. The room erupted in commotion and spontaneous cheering. Everyone started to ask the guard for more details. Only Bann Teagan took the time to look at the Queen's pale face. He cleared his throat and said loudly.

"In light of these joyous news, I think that further discussion should be postponed. I suggest that we clear the room and reconvene tomorrow instead."

One by one the noblemen left the throne room, until only Teagan was left. He looked at Anora who still remained seated on her throne.

"Will you be needing anything, you Majesty," he said courteously.

Anora shook her head.

"No, I'm fine thank you," she whispered, eyes brimming with tears. "I'm fine."

When she finally rose from the throne, she gave orders that Denerim should begin preparing to welcome the Hero of Fereldan home.

* * *

Nigella worked diligently. She had lost her job at Arl Eamon's estate together with many other. Eamon seldom visited Denerim since Anora's coronation, but she had been fortunate enough to get none other than the Prince to send a good word for her, securing her a place at the Royal Palace.

She was scrubbing the stone slabs that made up the stairs to the main entrance in the Royal Palace in Denerim. A job as servant in the Palace was a fine and well paid position, especially for an elf, but the last few days had been harrowing.

The whole courtyard had been scrubbed and polished. A huge wooden podium had been erected and decorated with fresh flowers. Large urns filled with flowers lined the path in the outer courtyard from the gate to the podium. The royal arms of Fereldan was displayed on banners hanging from every window.

The Queen had been constantly moving to oversee every part of the work. If anything was short of perfect she would throw a tantrum at the guilty part. All the servants cowered in terror when she passed them. The carpenters had even had to tear down the whole wooden construction once, because the Queen claimed the proportions were wrong.

Queen Anora would accept nothing short of absolute perfection when Denerim prepared to greet the heroic Prince who had returned from the Underworld and saved the country from destruction once more. As the day progressed, more and more people started to line the streets, hoping to catch a glimpse of the procession, while merchants and peddlers where hawking their wares in the crowd.

* * *

Anora herself had angrily gone through six different dresses. She sat down to let Erlina arrange her coiffure, while she pondered if she would keep the current dress or not. Erlina combed her long blonde hair and then bowed and picked up a headdress that was meant to match the dress she wore. It was a small but pretty hat with a pearl studded cloth in the back to hold in the hair.

Anora snorted disapproving. She had never understood the Orlesian fascination with hats. Her father had insisted that real Fereldan women did not wear hats.

"Please Erlina," she said annoyed. "Take that thing away."

"But your Majesty. I think it would be most fitting and appropriate on the occasion," Erlina replied.

"Why?" Anora said frowning?

"Why the Prince is coming home after so long. He must miss you very much. Maybe he will be... passionate tonight. You only need to remove two pins here and it comes off. No need to spoil the mood with undoing all those braids, no?"

Anora's mouth formed a little O, when she realized what Erlina meant. She looked at the hat for a long time and then she cast down her eyes.

"Erlina..." she said hesitantly looking at her hands. "Do you... do you really think that he has missed me?"

Erlina carefully finished combing Anora's hair and regarded her.

"Pardon me your Majesty," she said carefully. "But all I know is that the lady who carelessly left a pack of letters under your pillow, she has a husband who misses his wife very much, I think."

Anora bit her lip, cheeks glowing, and she nodded wordlessly as Erlina held up the headdress again, and that was how she was dressed as she stood on the podium later, waiting to greet her husband.

* * *

The first sign that the Prince and the Wardens had arrived in Denerim was the sound of cheering crowds, that rose as it came closer and closer to the Palace gates. When the cheering started in the throngs of people clustered just outside the entrance to the decorated courtyard, Anora barely restrained her desire to tiptoe to see if she could catch a first glimpse of Michael through the archway.

Then the crowd inside the courtyard erupted, accompanied by scores of blaring trumpets, when Michael dismounted his black destrier, followed by the rest of the Wardens, and walked across the courtyard. As he stepped up towards the podium, grinning at his Queen, she could no longer resist a huge smile and came to meet him.

Michael thought that the celebrations would never end. He was tired and would have preferred to just retire early, but there was no escaping the speeches, cheering and the banquet prepared in his honor afterwards.

As huge state occasions go, the banquet was better than most though, Michael thought, even if he had to be the centre of attention. His fellow Wardens seemed to enjoy the festivities. Anders was entertaining a circle of young women with an outrageous tale of how he'd been chased by a love sick Templar. Even Velanna seemed to be smiling now and then, or as close as she ever would come to a smile, at least Nathaniel was looking her way.

The most remarkable sight for Michael was however that for once Anora seemed to really enjoy herself at a feast. She laughed a lot more than he was used to, and even giggled at Oghren's antics. And sometimes, when their hands brushed, he would find her looking at him with a furtive smile.

It was not until late at night, that they finally made their way back to the royal bed chamber. He felt a little woozy from the all the wine the servants had poured him. Anora stumbled in the gloom, giggling, and grasped his arm. Michael caught her and held her. She froze in his arms, and for a long time they just stood like that unmoving. He listened to the beat of her heart, not wanting to let go, and afraid that the slightest move would break the spell.

Anora hesitated. She had missed him so much, but now that he was finally back with her, she was still not sure how she felt about having him back in her bed. Then she shrugged those feelings off. He did not deserve her hesitation. Not tonight of all nights. Slowly she slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him like she had never kissed him before.

Afterwards, when he lay beside her in their bed, he took a last loving look at her. The light coat of sweat made her body glisten like a goddess, he thought. Then he blew out the candle and pulled up the blankets to cover her.

"Good night my Queen," he whispered as she snuggled closer to him.


	7. Something Wicked

Chapter 7. Something Wicked

Leliana strolled down the busy market street of Val Royeaux. A thousand sights, sounds and smells washed over her from every direction. She heard the sound of chanting voices from different directions, rising and falling like an eternal canon, as she moved lazily from one merchant's both to the next.

She loved this city as no other place in the world, with its wonders and vices. It was hard to imagine that she had once been prepared to give up. She found herself remembering that long night she had spent venting her fears and worries to her friend Michael, and he had listened patiently. He had said many wise things to her and made her see what she really wanted in life.

She loved the thrills of this wonderful city and the subtleties of it's Great Game, the endless game of scheming and plotting that most nobles in Orlais was continuously involved in. She would have withered locked away in the chantry forever.

Unfortunately Michael's insights into her mind had its short comings. He had seemed remarkably apt at missing all the carefully laid clues she had given him that she would be very amenable to a courtship. She often wondered if he had been polite about it or just clueless.

Leliana sighed. Ferelden wasn't a land of subtle nuances. Maybe she should have just thrown herself at him as blatantly as that swamp witch Morrigan.

She stopped at merchant stand at picked up a lovely pair of sky blue boots and made of the finest Antivan leather. She felt the thin supple leather and sighed. It was probably a bit too small for her which was a shame. With a last longing look at the boots she left and continued her walk.

Leliana looked up to the sky and saw that the sun was already past noon. Lord Roussel would be expecting her now. She hurried her steps. There was no reason to appear overly eager to please the Fox of Val Royeaux, but neither was it prudent to be rude to him.

Sometime later she knocked on the door to one of the many magnificent houses in the noble district of Val Royeaux, and a liveried servant had shown her into a chamber to wait for his master. Leliana looked at the many rich and wonderful furniture that decorated the room. Lord Roussel was rich and had many important friends. He was a master of the Great Game and an important patron to cultivate.

"Ah, Leliana! How good of you to spare a moment of your precious time" a rich melodious voice said behind her.

"Lord Roussel, you are far too kind. I am always at your service." Leliana answered with an exaggerated courtesy. "You wished to see me. To what do I owe the pleasure of this invitation? What can I do for you?"

Lord Roussel, the Fox of Val Royaeux, was a relatively small, but still imposing man. His dark complexion spoke of Antivan ancestry, but that was not something anyone would dare to mention to his face of course. Today he wore a rich purple tunic trimmed with gold, and a matching pair trousers. A white mask, made according to the latest fashion, hid the upper half of his face, except for his piercing green eyes.

"My dear Leliana. As much as I appreciate your willingness to offer your services, today it is I who can do something for you" he said smiling at her.

Leliana tensed behind her mask of civility. Lord Roussel was a master of the Great Game and, like all of his importance, he was as cold as ice. He would never invite a famous bard to his mansion without an ulterior motive. Her game was now to find out what, without committing herself too much.

"I have received some news that might interest you Leliana," Lord Roussel continued smiling amicably. "It concerns a former acquaintance of yours, Prince Michael of Ferelden."

For a moment Leliana almost lost her composure. She had not been prepared for this turn of events. Michael was far away in Denerim. What interest did Roussel have in him and what did he want from her?

"If it is help with Ferelden politics you seek, I'm afraid I have little knowledge of value. It's been long since the Prince and I met," Leliana said with feigned nonchalance.

"My dear Leliana, I would not call you here and pretend to be of help to you, just to drag you into something as sordid as Fereldan politics. I only wish to convey some information that might interest you, since you have a history with the Prince."

"What information is that?"

"Why, rumor has it that your Prince is not very happy with his current position. Apparently Queen Anora has him jump to do her slightest bidding, and yet she is so cold in bed that there is still no sign of an heir."

Leliana almost opened her mouth in an angry retort, but stopped herself just in time. This was no more than idle gossip on the street, and it was demeaning to her friend. All that remained was for her to discover why he was interested in prodding her like this.

"While I am grateful for you taking the time to convey this information, I can't help but wonder if there is no small favor you wish in return," Leliana said.

"Alas, you read me like an open book I'm afraid. All my shameful secrets are laid bare to your keen eyes. There is indeed a small favor you can do for me, if you return to Denerim," Lord Roussel said with a disarming smile.

"It so happens that our ambassador in Denerim has misunderstood his duties. His instructions are to aid all trade between Fereldan and Orlais. Unfortunately an acquaintance of mine, of the excellent trading house Domille, has troubles receiving the necessary permits to import silk to Ferelden. It seems the ambassador only favors the substandard cloth that the miserable house Veneer hawkes."

"Naturally I would feel forced to somehow repay you for the effort, should find it in the kindness of your heart to help me with this small matter," Lord Roussel finished.

Leliana smiled to herself. So this was her true mission. Convincing a bribed ambassador to recant or preferably accept better bribes from a new source. Her first thought was to politely refuse him, but Lord Roussel was an influential man. It would be a good thing if he owed her a favor. Besides, the mention of Michael had brought back old memories. She wondered how he was doing now, and if there really was any truth to the rumors about him and Queen Anora.

"Lord Roussel, as you anticipated I now feel moved to travel to Denerim. It will be my pleasure to help you with that small matter you asked of me while I'm there," Leliana said smiling.

"Wonderful news!" Lord Roussel said. "The good man Domille will be much relieved to hear this. I do hope that the Prince is well, if nothing else a visit from you is sure to brighten his day. Just as you have brightened mine."

* * *

Lord Roussel stood alone smiling to himself, after Leliana had left. That delightful girl was an excellent bard, and he had more than once been tempted to try and sample the delights her body hinted at. Unlike his ill fated underling Marjolaine, he knew better than to mix business and pleasure though.

Despite her skill, Leliana would always be a novice at the Great Game however. She was far too easy to read, to be able to deceive someone like him. And she was as simple in her desires as the rest of the people from Ferelden. Her feelings for the Prince where obviously just as strong as he had hoped they would be.

He did not know what the Empress truly planned, he doubted anyone did, but it was obvious that the Empress did not look favorably upon the speed at which Ferelden had recovered from the war and the Blight under the reign of Queen Anora and Prince Michael. This was his opportunity to gain much favor at court.

Little Leliana had no idea of her true purpose in Denerim or the part she would play in his game.


	8. Lost in the Castle

Chapter 2. Lost in the Castle

Michael studied his opponent with intense concentration. Ser Gaven was a huge strong man, at least three inches taller than the Prince. Right now the knight seemed to almost cringe under the his gaze however. No one liked sparring with the Prince, when he was in a bad mood

Michael stepped in towards Ser Gaven with his shield in front of him and the heavy practice sword held ready. The knight involuntarily backed away, but not fast enough. Michael extended his sword arm forward in a swift arc that sent his blade crashing into the knight's thigh, before he could deflect it with his shield.

Michael didn't even wait for his opponent to acknowledge the blow before he reversed the swing and brought another blow down on his head. Reeling from the blows Ser Gaven wasn't ready when Michael threw his entire body behind a shield bash that felled his opponent for good.

Michael panted, blood pumping, before he finally forced himself to relax. Maker help me, but I needed that, Michael thought ruefully. He took a deep breath and then extended an armored hand to help the dazed knight up again.

"Good work, Ser Gaven. Let's call it a day shall we." Michael said with feigned ease, trying to cover his embarrassment. He had been way too tough on the knight. He had just been so angry. Ser Gaven rose shakily and mumbled a reply before letting himself be led away by a squire.

Stripping his armor, Michael relived the earlier events of the day. He and Anora had slowly developed certain rules for how to cooperate. Anora had insisted that they should do their utmost to refrain from involving themselves in unnecessary debates publicly, and Michael certainly agreed with her. If there was any complicated issue they needed to address, then they tried to discuss it privately first.

The big problem was that Anora would grow impatient sometimes. Once she thought she knew what was to be done, it would take all his persuasion to make her even sit down and listen to his arguments. It wasn't that they really disagreed fundamentally, rather he had sometimes a different perspective on what was needed.

Yesterday Bann Oline had approached him about a dispute she had with her neighbor, Bann Yoran. It was the usual mess, claims and counter claims from the civil war years. He sympathized with Bann Oline, who had been a staunch ally of the Grey Wardens during the civil war, but there was really no way he could promise her what she wanted. Still, he was sure that if he could see to it that they offered some small compensation to ease the pain, then Bann Oline wouldn't take it too hard.

He had made it clear to the Queen that he wanted to discuss their strategy in dealing with Bann Oline before she pronounced her sentence in court, but she had avoided him all morning before court. On top of that Anora had phrased her ruling in a manner that seemed almost intended to insult Bann Oline on purpose. Michael had forced himself to sit silently and endure the furious Bann's accusing glares.

It was so unnecessary, when a few simple words could have kept Bann Oline content. Part of him wondered if the incident had anything to do with the fact that Oline was a quite striking woman in her early thirties. He told himself that he was imagining things, but there were times when it seemed that Anora was unusually harsh in dealing with his suggestions, whenever a pretty woman was involved.

He cursed silently to himself. He had long admitted to himself that his feelings for Anora where far more than just those for a political ally in an arranged marriage. He felt sure that she had come to care for him too, in her own way, but why the Maker did the woman have to make it so difficult to like her at times.

He had been very angry with Anora and said some unusually harsh words to her after court. He sighed and wondered if he shouldn't go to see Anora and try to patch things up with her. He still resisted that feeling though. He was always the one who took the initiative to mend any rift between them. Somehow he ended up apologizing to her, even if he felt it was mostly her fault. He didn't want to start that again. For once she could seek him out.

He handed his massive suit of black volcanic metal to his two squires who reverently waited to take care of it, and headed away towards his private study. He had a stack of officer recommendations to look at. He had intended to save it until tomorrow, but now he decided to use them as an excuse to stay up late and avoid Anora.

* * *

Michael briskly walked the steps up to his private study. It was a relatively small chamber next to the library, with a single window overlooking the city. Captain Kylon had tried to make him move to another more spacious room closer to the royal quarters, but he had refused. He liked the big library and he enjoyed the view of Denerim. He told himself that he needed to see and hear the city to remember it was real people out there, not just figures in columns.

By the time he had reached his study, Michael had again began considering to go and talk to Anora. Still, it never hurt to get some work done. He frowned as he entered the room. It was dark inside, but the window was slightly ajar. One of the servants must have forgotten to close the window after cleaning the room. He lit a candle and looked carefully. Something felt wrong and made the hairs at the back of his head stand out. Suddenly he saw a shadow move in a corner.

"Who's there!" he said sharply as his hand sought the long dagger he usually wore at his side.

"Why it's just little old me," a familiar voice said as a smiling figure emerged from the darkness.

"Leliana! but how... why...?" he burst out, taken completely by surprise. "Maker's breath, what are you doing here?"

"Are you so important that I need a reason to visit my dear friend now?" Leliana answered, "or should I have announced myself and requested an audience first, your highness?"

"No, of course not, or… well Captain Kylon will have a fit if he discovers you managed to sneak in like this," Michael replied.

"You really need to speak to Kylon, those guards you employ are far too lax. It's almost criminal," Leliana said with eyes glittering mischievously.

"I really don't know what brings you here like this Leliana, but it's wonderful to see you again."

Leliana smiled at him. She had been waiting for this moment and now when she finally met him, her heart beat a little faster. It had been a long time since she had seen him last, and part of her had feared that being Prince would have estranged him to her. Now she saw that, despite his new status, he really had not changed at all.

Leliana cocked her head and watched him critically. She longed to bring him to Val Royaux and go shopping for some really nice looking clothes to him. The things they dressed a Prince of Fereldan in here was far to simple and austere to do him justice, she thought. She had to admit that the plain dark green tunic he wore suited him, but then again almost anything looked good on him, she sighed.

"Are you growing a beard or have you just forgotten to shave?" Leliana asked him frowning.

"A little of both I guess," Michale replied ruefully.

"Well a nice trimmed beard can look manly, but promise you won't ever let is grow long. Those long bushy beards Fereldan men wear is just so… eww. " Leliana grimaced.

"Ah, but it's good to see you too," she said and smiled again.

"I really want to talk to you and hear what you've been up to since last we met Leliana, but this is so unexpected. It's already late and I think I should get some work done here, before dark. Can I see you tomorrow maybe?"

"Duty calls I hear, but don't worry Michael. I'll be here tomorrow too. Where do you want to meet?"

"I don't want half the court and a patrol of guards hanging over my shoulder. Can you slip in here, around the same time tomorrow?"

"Of course, until tomorrow then, my Prince." She stepped up to him and gently brushed his cheek with her lips. Then she opened the window and was gone.


	9. Careless Accusations

Chapter 9. Careless Accusations

In her private chambers Queen Anora was also considering the events of the day, while Erlina carefully unbraided her hair. She liked the soothing touch of her maid brushing her hair. And it helped her think.

She was still upset with Michael's childish outburst after court. She did feel a bit guilty for forcing him into accepting her ruling without a chance to voice his opinion, but he had to learn to stop sometime. The law was simple and she intended to follow it. He was far too prone to give special consideration to whatever noblewoman who batted her lashes at him.

That was part of the problem she had to admit. In the time she had spent with Michael she had discovered many things about him, but also about herself. He was a good Prince and partner for her, but more than that, she had to admit that she really cared for him. She had not had any real friend in her life except Cailan, but Cailan had been a boy, hardly out of his youth, before they had grown apart. The bond she felt with Michael was different.

She remembered the day he had come home from Amaranthine. She had missed him terribly and that night, after the banquet, she had been so happy to be with him again. It was the first time in her life that she had truly enjoyed physical intimacy. It had thrilled her, but also frightened her a bit.

Michael had so many friends. People like his fellow Grey Wardens, who where intensely loyal to him, whatever background they had come from. It was easy to see why they felt so, but she only had him. She hated the thought that he could make other women feel the same way about him that she did.

She sighed as Erlina finished brushing her hair. She didn't want to remain upset with him. For all his faults, she had never found any evidence that he had tried to cheat on her. She knew that most of her jealousy was unfounded. She rose from her chair as another maid brought her night gown.

"Do you know if Michael is up still, Erlina?" she asked her.

"I don't know your Majesty. I believe he was going to his study. He might have been delayed by his work."

"Maybe he is seeing his friend, your Majesty" the other maid Calinda said.

"What friend?" Anora said frowning.

Erlina made a little motion to Calinda to keep quiet, but she smiled blithely and continued.

"Oh, but haven't you heard. The guards say that the beautiful Orlesian bard who helped the Prince stop the Blight is back here in Denerim."

"I'm sure the Prince is merely busy with his work," Erlina replied glaring at Calinda. "I can go and tell him you are retiring now."

"Never mind," Anora said sharply. He can come when he chooses. Just leave me now, please."

* * *

Leliana strolled down the street towards the Market district. Even in the blossom of spring Denerim smelled like wet dog, she thought, but she didn't mind. She hummed a little light hearted tune and smiled to herself. It had been so good to see Michael again.

"Spare a silver for a war veteran kind lady" an elf in non descript rags called to her.

Leliana frowned and turned to the man. Despite the rags he wore, the elf seemed quite healthy to her. There was something fake about the way he leaned on his crutch and she could see a smirk on his face under the hood he wore.

"I think not. I don't see any wounds that would incapacitate a man willing to earn his coin honestly."

"Ah, but what of the wounds in my heart Lady. Your cruel words have quite incapacitated me."

Leliana's eyebrows rose. She knew that voice.

"Zevran! Is that you Zevran? What are you doing in Denerim."

"Now that is an excellent question, but the answer really requires a change of scene to do it justice. Might I suggest that we move ourselves to the nearest tavern before I answer it."

Once they found a private booth in the Gnarled Oak Tavern and ordered something to drink, Zevran began to explain.

"You do know that the Antivan Crows still are looking for me? Most of the time this is rather amusing. They are very skilled at setting up ambushes and I am equally apt at avoiding them. If it becomes too much of a bother I can always try to disappear for a while. I move from town to town until my notoriety catches up with me."

"You mean until you blow your cover, and some angry husband chases you out of town," Leliana retorted.

"Yes, well... there is that too," Zevran admitted.

"At any rate. I am currently residing in Denerim, but no one knows I'm here, except you of course. A week ago I heard rumors of an Orlesian bard that was secretly hiding here in Denerim. Naturally this had me worried. Had the Crows sent a bard to find me? If I could no longer trust seductive young women, my life would be so much more complicated."

"Imagine the my surprise when I see my good friend Leliana stroll down the street. Why, she is an Orlesian bard no less. I cannot imagine you taking gold from the Crows to find me, but my curiosity is piqued and here we are," Zevran finished his story.

Leliana looked at him puzzled.

"I am certainly not here on a mission to find you Zevran. I only arrived here this morning and I had no idea you where here until we met."

"Hmm... that is what I thought," Zevran frowned. " No matter. I'll find out one way or the other. But enough of me. May I ask what brings you to this quaint place of the world?"

"I have been sent to persuade the Orlesian ambassador to aide a client with some business contracts," Leliana replied.

"Then I advise you to be cautious. The ambassador is a most unpleasant lout. He only thinks of politics and commerce. No appreciation of the finer things in life, like that charming wife of his. It was she who let slip that a bard was supposed to be hiding here in Denerim."

Leliana pondered this, but then dismissed the thought. There were many reasons why a bard would be hiding in Denerim, and it didn't need to have anything to do with either of them."

"And you are only here for business then," Zevran asked carefully. "I couldn't help but notice that you where coming from the direction of the Royal Palace. Paying the royal couple your respect?"

"Yes, I saw Michael," Leliana answered airily. "Why not. You would too, if you weren't here incognito."

"True," Zevran admitted, "but I wouldn't sneak into the palace in the evening after dark. Are you sure you know what you are doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Michael broke your heart once Leliana, are you sure you want to let him do it again?"

"I don't know what you mean Zevran," Leliana answered angrily.

"Oh really? The fact that you left Denerim just one week before his wedding was just a coincidence then?" Zevran asked raising an eyebrow.

"It wasn't like that at all. Don't worry Zevran. I know what I'm doing," Leliana said with a forced smile.

"If you say so my dear, and you know where to find me, if you need me."

After a minute of silence they both rose and Leliana left the Tavern. Leliana chewed her lips as she walked down the dark streets to the other inn where she was staying. Her good mood had abandoned her. Zevran's words had hit a little too close to home for comfort.


	10. Have you seen Me?

Chapter 10. Have you seen me?

The next morning when Michael woke up, Anora was already out of bed and getting dressed. It was still gloomy outside, so she must have gotten up early. Michael ransacked his memory for any occasion that might explain her early rise.

"Do we have anything planned for today Anora?" Michael asked as he got out his dressing room.

"Nothing that needs concern you," Anora answered in a frosty tone. "You can run and play with the soldiers all day long if you want, or whatever you fancy."

Michael flinched. He had hoped that yesterdays argument would be forgotten now, but instead she seemed to be in a really foul mood. He was about to mention that Leliana was back in Denerim, but decided against it. Not when she was like that. I'll tell her later instead, he thought to himself.

"As you wish dear. I'll go see Master Denwick about the preparations for the hunt tomorrow then," Michael said instead and left hurriedly.

Anora watched him leave with a knot in her stomach. She had slept poorly last night and when she had woken up early she had not been able to go back to sleep.

Michael always liked to keep track of his old companions and often told her all about what he heard of them. Now he had not even mentioned that Leliana was back in Denerim. She cursed herself for a fool for doubting him, but she couldn't quite shake her worry off.

The rest of the day Michael and Anora managed to avoid each other all together. Several times Michael considered trying to find Anora and talk to her, but he kept finding excuses to avoid it. Once he actually went looking for her, but a maid told him she was busy and not to be disturbed.

He really couldn't understand why she had been so angry this morning. It was she who had started it when she refused to listen to him about Bann Oline. Maker's mercy, she ought to be the one who apologized to him.

Then Michael remembered Leliana. It would be so good to see her again. He missed her and he really need someone to talk to, he thought, sighing to himself.

Michael saddled his horse and went for a ride in the afternoon, but his heart wasn't really in it. He was only an average horseman on the best of days, and today he was too preoccupied with thoughts to enjoy the ride, even if the spring weather was bright and sunny.

* * *

He returned earlier than he had originally planned from the rise and went straight to his private study. He tried to concentrate on the rolls of parchment, but his eyes kept drifting towards the half open window. Would she really just sneak past the palace defenses come in as easily as yesterday? Probably he thought, smiling to himself.

He forced himself to continue with the officer commendations. It wasn't strictly speaking something he need to concern himself with, but he liked to get a feel for who the ranking nobles in the royal army was. He had almost lost himself in his reading, when he heard a noise from the window. He looked up and saw Leliana stand smiling beside the window making a theatrical bow.

"Your highness," she said.

"Leliana, you made it after all," he said. Michael rose smiling in return and gave her light hug.

"So... where to now Michael?" she asked him.

He frowned. He hadn't really thought that far. He just wanted a moment on his own with her, to catch up on old times with Leliana, but he didn't want half the Castle watching over his back. Leliana saw his concern, but just looked smugly at him and motioned him to look out through the window.

Michael looked carefully. Beneath him the sun was setting and the first lights where being lit in Denerim. Then he looked to the left and saw a rope hanging down from the roof. He turned quizzically to Leliana.

"Come on Michael," she whispered. "You've been locked up in here too long. You need an adventure."

Michael was going to say something about the Darkspawn invasion in Amaranthine, but Leliana was already out through the window. Shaking his head, he leaned out through the window to catch the rope.

He tried to forget the height as he climbed up the rope, up onto the palace roof. Leliana sat waiting for him, leaning on an ugly looking gargoyle thing. She had opened a leather bag and pulled a bottle of wine she had began to uncork.

"What is this?" Michael said smiling in disbelief. "Are we having a picnic now?"

"We're just enjoying the view. Don't you know that this the best view of Denerim," Leliana answered him.

"You mean when it's getting dark and you are high above so you can't really see it?" Michael said jokingly.

"I knew you would understand," Leliana giggled.

For a long time the just sat there and enjoyed the sight. As the dusk set in and city grew darker they began to discuss their other companions. Leliana told him that Zevran was in Denerim, but wasn't sure if he wanted to make himself known or not.

"Have you... heard anything from Alistair yet?" Leliana asked him carefully.

"Nothing," Michael admitted sadly. "I have tried to find a way to get in touch with him, but I have found no trace of him."

"It wasn't your fault you know," Leliana tried to comfort him.

"Yes it was," he said and shook his head.

She softly stroked his cheek. He took a deep breath and smiled at her.

"Don't mind me," he said and tried to smile. "It's just been... a lot lately."

"Life as a Prince is not all fun and games then?"

"Not exactly," Michael replied sadly.

Then he started to tell her about yesterdays fight with Anora, and before he knew it he had began to pour out all his frustration and bitterness to her.

Leliana listened intently. As she listened she felt a strange sinking feeling inside. She looked wistfully at him, until she had to avert her eyes and compose herself.

Michael noticed that she had stopped looking at him and grew silent. "I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pour everything on you like that. I must be boring you."

"You love her, don't you?" Leliana said softly. "You really love the Queen, that's why you are hurting so."

"I...You... you are right of course," Michael sighed, looking down at his hands. "Maker help me, but I do."

"Then you should tell her more often," Leliana said and smiled at him.

"I would be happy if I just knew how to keep her from getting mad at me all the time."

"Don't be stupid. Even Queen's are women. You should tell her that you love her as often as you can. But now I've taken too much of your time Michael. Let's go back inside, before someone starts to suspect that I've abducted their Prince."

Leliana rose and motioned him to follow.

They both climbed down the rope and back into Michael's study.

"Thank you so much Leliana. you are a wonderful friend and I really missed our talks," Michael said finally.

Leliana tried to smile. Once maybe he could really have been hers, but now he was truly lost to her.

At least I will have one memory of him, she thought and before Michael knew what had happened, she grabbed him and kissed him fiercely. Michael was caught completely off guard. Without really knowing what he did, he answered the kiss.

Suddenly the door was flung open.

"I am sure I saw him here your Majesty and...oh!"

Michael and Leliana let go of each other horrified, as Queen Anora stared at them behind the wide eyed chamber maid. Anora's eyes narrowed and she turned away.

"Let's go Calinda," Anora said icily. "My husband is just saying goodbye to his... friend. I'm sure she was about to leave us now anyway."


	11. Asunder

Chapter 11. Asunder

Zevran automatically reached for his dagger when he heard the light knock on his door at the Gnarled Oak Tavern.

"Zevran, are you there?" he heard Leliana's voice.

Zevran kept the dagger ready and carefully opened the door to peer out. Then he saw Leliana standing alone outside. He opened the door to welcome her, but his smile faded when he saw her face.

"Oh Zevran. I've made a mess of everything," Leliana wailed.

"Well, don't just stand there. Come inside and tell me. You look terrible."

Leliana stumbled inside, slumped on the couch and buried her face in her hands.

"It can't be that bad. It's not like Ferelden is going to be cast into civil war because the Queen found you in bed with Michael is it?"

"Not quite, but not too far away either," Leliana said miserably.

"Well, that would indeed explain the tears then," Zevran said softly. "What happened?"

Zevran sat down beside her, as Leliana retold everything that had happened earlier in the evening.

"And he loves the Queen. I thought it was just politics, but he loves her," Leliana sobbed.

"I see. I am truly sorry Leliana," Zevran said sadly. He softly stroked her hair.

"I am afraid that Fereldan is a country full of brambles and thorns. A foreign flower like you or me can easily get lost here," Zevran said.

"I thought the Empress said that Anora was the flower of Ferelden, not some vicious thorn," Leliana said wiping a tear.

"Far from me to question an Empress," Zevran said seriously, "but personally I think the Queen and our Prince are both the same sort of flower. They are very pretty to look at, but you can easily get hurt if you get too close."

Leliana curled up with her head in his lap.

"Now the Queen hates Michael and I guess he hates me, and it's all my fault. I have to do something," she whimpered.

"Your thoughts do you credit, but they aren't very practical. Just what do you think you could say to the Queen that she would believe, coming from you?" Zevran asked her. "Assuming that you survive entering the Palace to begin with."

"I don't know. I don't know what to do."

"Well, if had been me, this would be the time I just left town as fast as possible," Zevran said. "He broke your heart and you may have caused a crack in his, so technically you could call it even. But I guess you don't want to do that."

Leliana shook her head.

"Hmm... and I suppose a night of wild debauchery with me at the Pearl to forget your sorrows is also out of the question."

"Yes, Zevran" Leliana smiled beneath her tears.

"Then how about this. I order a couple of bottles of the least offensive wine I can find here and then we drink it together while we trade stories of how dreadful these Fereldans are. Later I, being a man of healthy appetites, will no doubt try to take advantage of your weakened state. But by the time you are too drunk to resist my charms, I will be too drunk to force my way past that leather bodice of yours anyway. So nothing will happen, and tomorrow it will all be forgotten so we won't even be embarrassed about it"

"That sounds like a wonderful idea Zev!" Leliana giggled.

* * *

Anora lie awake alone in her bed, fighting her tears. She was angry with her foolish husband and that slutty little redhead Leliana, but most of all she was angry with herself. She really had made herself believe that Michael somehow was different than Cailan and other men. She had been so stupid.

She wanted to scream and rage at everything, but once Michael was out of sight and she was alone, then all she could feel was this horrible constricting weight in her chest that threatened to crush her.

Why did he have to do that? Why now? when she was finally beginning to feel good about being with him.

Maybe it was all her fault. Maybe all men were like that. It didn't matter how hard she struggled to be the Queen she had been raised to be. Maybe it was natural for any man to prefer some little strumpet that could batt her eye lashes prettily, over someone like her.

But why had he gone to such lengths to try and make her imagine that he was different then? Why couldn't he just have been honest about it from the beginning. She could have dealt with that. It would have been no more than she would have expected. It would have been infinitely better than this horrid sense of betrayal and pain.

The worst part was that he had the nerve to deny things. That it somehow wasn't at all what she thought. That had made her so angry with him that she had slapped him. He had even pretended to become angry himself and claimed that she didn't listen.

Why did he have do such a stupid thing. Why did he have to make her care like this? she wondered sobbing to herself.

* * *

The next morning Leliana woke up with a dull headache and a mouth like grinding stone. For a short moment she hoped that yesterday's events had just been a bad dream, but then she realized it was all horribly true. She pried her eyes open and realized it was long past daybreak.

She was back in her own room. Zevran must have manage to get her there somehow in the early hours. She got up arduously and saw Zevran beginning to show signs of life on her couch.

"Good morning Zevran," she said.

"Mhmm..." he groaned and opened his eyes too.

"So... I'm sleeping on your couch and with all my clothes on. I can only assume that you managed to defend your virtue then, such as it is," he said and smiled weakly.

"You don't have to pretend Zev. You were a perfect gentleman all evening and you know it," Leliana replied and smiled fondly at him.

"Yes.. well, that may be, but I would appreciate it if you didn't mention it to anyone. I have a reputation to uphold after all."

Leliana slapped him playfully, when a knock on the door made them freeze. Instantly alert they both reached for the nearest weapon.

"ello, is anyone there?" an unknown female voice with an Orlesian accent spoke.

Leliana motioned Zevran to hide behind the couch as she carefully approached the door. There was another knock on the door.

"Who's there?" Leliana said carefully.

"Please hurry. You must let me in. I can't remain here long," the voice said on the other side of the door.

Leliana carefully opened the door and saw a pretty elf woman stand outside. She looked vaguely familiar.

"Please let me in. It is me, Erlina, Queen Anora's chamber maid," the woman said.

Leliana looked at Erlina dazed and let her slip past her into the room.

"Please, can we... speak privatly?" Erlina asked.

Leliana coughed nervously and Zevran rose smiling from behind the couch. Erlina looked at him surprised.

"It's not what it seems," Zevran said winked at her.

"This... this is another of Michael's companions, no?" Erlina asked her.

"Yeas, and whatever message you have, you can say it now. I trust Zevran with my life," Leliana answered her.

Erlina sat down on the edge of the couch, as far away from the grinning Zevran as she could.

"Before I say anything else I must ask you something Leliana. Are... are you and the Prince... lovers?"

"That's none of your business!" Leliana retorted angrily. "I don't have to explain anything to you."

"Please, I must know. this is very important," Erlina implored her.

"No," Leliana finally admitted. "He has no such feelings for me. I give you my word."

Erlina looked carefully at Leliana and saw her discomfort. She was very aware of exactly how Leliana had worded her answer. Then she nodded.

"Good, because if you really are Michael's friends, then he, and the Queen, needs your help."

"Not to question your judgment, my Lady, but right now I sincerely doubt either of them would be very interested in our help, at least not Leliana's," Zevran said. "Unless perhaps the Queen knows I was with the Antivan Crows, in which case I must respectfully decline. I won't kill Michael for her, nor Leliana."

Erlina looked distastefully at Zevran.

"It's not like that." Erlina said impatiently. "I think they both really need your help, but they don't know it yet."


	12. A Test of Faith

Chapter 12. A Test of Faith

Leliana and Zevran followed Erlina, dressed up as delivery men. They each carried a load of assorted bundles as packets to complete the disguise. None of the palace guards challenged them, as everyone knew Erlina was the Queen's favorite chamber maid. They simply assumed he had been shopping on behalf of the Queen.

"This really brings back memories, doesn't it Erlina?" Zevran asked her gaily. "Us disguised and you helping us to get in so we can get to the Queens chamber. Why it seems like only yesterday we where sneaking into that rascal Howe's manor."

Erlina snorted. If what she suspected was true, then she truly needed their help, because without proof she wasn't sure the Queen would listen to her, least of all now. And after hearing what Zevran had to say, she was more convinced than ever, that she was correct. But even so, she had several times regretted allowing Leliana to bring the Antivan assassin along. His flippant humor and unceasing outrageous flirting made her cringe inwardly.

They quickly made their way through the palace towards the royal quarters. Zevran and Leliana kept their gaze low and tried to be inconspicuous. One of the guards who apparently knew Erlina stopped to chat a bit her. Erlina squirmed as she forced herself to be polite and listen, while the other two tried to hide their features behind their loads.

Eventually they reached the door to the royal bed chamber. Erlina motioned to them to be silent. They carefully unloaded their burdens on the floor, without making so much as a sound. Erlina opened the door ajar and peered into the chamber.

They all hard faint sounds from one side of the room where Erlina knew that Anora had her dressing room. She made a sign to the others to remain outside as she opened the door further and tiptoed into the bedroom towards the sound.

Erlina finally reached the door to the Queens dressing room. She stood still lsitening to the sounds inside, then she took a deep breath and opened the door.

"Oh!" the chamber maid gasped, when she saw Erlina. "Erlina, don't sneak upon me like that. you frightened me."

"You don't fool me anymore, Calinda," Erlina said angrily. "I know all about your game."

"Maker's mercy, whatever are you talking about Erlina," Calinda answered, her eyes huge and innocent.

"Don't play innocent with me. Is it the Empress who paid you to come here or just one of her cronies?"

Something changed imperceptibly in Calinda's feature. Her eyes narrowed and darted across the room. She slowly approached Erlina.

"Well, well, you think you are so clever little Erlina, don't you. Haven't you heard what happens to little girls who stick their noses where they don't belong?"

Erlina backed away from her as she slowly advanced menacingly. Gone was the innocent prattling chamber maid. Calinda pulled a long slim dagger, she had hidden in the folds of her apron.

Then Calinda stopped, eyes wide open. She tried to open her mouth, but only a thin gurgling sound came as she slumped to the floor.

"They come to a very sad end," Zevran said softly as he looked at Calinda's body, with his blade lodged in her back and a red stain slowly spreading around it.

Erlina swallowed. This was her plan, but it was one thing to plan for someone to die and it was a very different thing to see Calinda die so swiftly from the assassin's lethal blade right in front of her eyes.

Leliana bowed and inspected the fallen girl's corpse carefully.

"This woman was a bard. I am certain of it," she said after a while.

"And she matches the description I got from the ambassador's wife," Zevran nodded. "What shall we do with the body?"

"I don't know," said Erlina. "We need something to cover her with, before we can get her out of here. Can you just hide her in the wardrobe until I can find something to wrap her in."

"Why?" Leliana asked. "Maker help me, I thought the whole purpose was to show this as evidence to the Queen."

"She is dead and right now we are the only ones who know the truth. We should ransack her belongings for more incriminating evidence, before we tell anyone," Erlina answered.

Suddenly they heard a sound outside.

"Erlina, is that you?" they heard Queen Anora say.

Erlina stared wide eyed, but Zevran and Leliana quickly managed to force the dead body into the huge wardrobe, before they climbed into the adjoining wardrobe, both of them."

"This is like old times really you know, hiding in a Queens wardrobe," Zevran whispered, "although being fully clothed is a novelty I suppose. Have I told you..."

"Maker's mercy. Shut up Zev!" Leliana hissed.

"There you are," Anora said irritably as she entered her dressing room and sat down in her chair.

"Y... your Majesty," Erlina said unsteadily.

"My hair is a mess. I need you to comb it and do it properly please." Anora said.

The truth was that she really just needed to relax. She had been to upset all day to think properly. She needed to feel Erlina's soothing fingers brushing her hair. Her mind kept returning to that horrible scene yesterday.

"Ouch!" Anora winced. "What are you doing?"

Erlina was close to fainting. She tried desperately to concentrate on the Queen's hair, but this was the second time she had yanked it so hard that it hurt Anora.

Erlina opened her mouth to whisper an apology, when they both heard a strange grating sound from the wardrobe where the others had hid Calinda's body.

"What's that?" Anora frowned.

"I... I..." Erlina tried to say something coherently, but no words came.

Suddenly a wardrobe door opened and Zevran stumbled out.

"Oh, your Majesty, how awkward! Did I interrupt something?" Zevran smiled as he ajusted his clothing.

"From the looks of it I should be asking you the same thing," Anora said acridly. "I think you owe me an explanation," she continued, staring at Erlina.

"I swear. It's not..." Erlina stammered.

"A thousand pardons, your Majesty, but this saucy little minx had promised me that we would be alone here."

Erlina looked as if she would choke on something.

"Wait a moment," Anora said eyes narrowing. "I know you. You are that Crow Zevran. Michael's cmpanion. What is really going on here."

Erlina shot Zevran a silent plea, but he only shrugged sheepishly.

"Someone give me one reason why I shouldn't call the guards right this moment!" Anora demanded.

"I can explain everything," Leliana said, stepping out of the wardrobe too.

"You!" Anora's eyes lit with fury. "You conniving little harlot. I will kill you myself!"

"Wait!" Zevran raised his hands. "No doubt you will get a chance to have us all beheaded shortly, but please hear her out first."

Anora glared at Leliana, with her hands curled like claws, then she slowly forced herself to relax.

"Speak then," she said curtly. "Or are there more people hiding in my closet, I should know of?"

"Not a living soul," Zevran assured her blithely.

"I don't deny that things looks bad, but you should be aware that my being here is all part of plan engineered by a very dangerous nobleman from Orlais. And I believe that the goal of his plan was to drive you apart from your husband."

"Are you saying that the reason I found you in my husband's arms is because of some convoluted Orlesian plot?" Anora said incredulously. Are you totally insane?"

"Your Majesty, please listen to them," Erlina begged her. "I know it sounds insane, but it's true."

"Anora, I mean your Majesty, there is an ambitious nobleman in Val Royaux called the Fox. He wants to earn favor with the Empress and so he engineered all this. He guessed that I had… feelings for Michael. First he filled my head with gossip that you and the Michael did not like each other. Then he sent me to Denerim on an errand, hoping I would look for him."

Leliana talked hurriedly, trying to say everything before Anora changed her mind and did something violent.

"He also sent a bard, Calinda, to infiltrate the royal household and make sure that anything that happened when I met Michael appeared in the worst possible light. I do not know how far she would have carried this vicious game of hers. But I wouldn't be surprised if she had instructions to use any opportunity to assassinate either you or Michael and make it look like a fit of jealous rage."

"It's true. I saw it," Erlina said. "Haven't you noticed how Calinda always had some poisonous little comment to drop, looking all innocent, or how she knew how to let you find your husband at the worst possible moment?"

Anora looked carefully at them all, with her mouth pursed. She had intended to fire that poisonous little chatterbox Calinda, but an Orlesian spy? That was just too preposterous. And yet, somehow the whole story seemed just too fantastic to be a lie.

She looked at Leliana for a long moment.

"Even if what you say is true, it still don't explain why my husband kissed you," she said finally.

Leliana bit her lip. Anora's voice had almost broken as she spoke those last words. Maker's breath, Leliana thought. She loves him too.

"You really didn't see him kissing me," Leliana said finally. "It's true that I was tempted to see if he would be amenable to a… little dalliance, believing that his marriage to you to be just a formality. But I soon realized that he wasn't interested. All you saw was me ambushing him with an overeager good bye."

Anora stood motionless staring at Leliana. Leliana swallowed and cleared her throat.

"Please forgive him. He loves you, your Majesty. Only you. Of that I have no doubt."

Anora looked down for a moment, but then she regained her composure.

"And where is Calinda now?" she finally asked with an unnatural calm.

"She is dead, your Majesty," Erlina whispered. "She tried to kill me, when I confronted her."

Zevran nodded towards the wardrobe.

Anora took a deep breath.

"I see, So then it seems that all that remains is for me is to decide what to do with the three of you."

"I should kill you and lock you up in a dungeon for touching my husband Leliana, but then again you may have saved my life too. I suppose that you are free to leave. But if you know what's good for you, you will not come near my husband EVER again," Anora said tersely. "Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, your Majesty," Leliana replied humbly.

"Your part in this seems quite innocent Zevran. You are also free to leave, but I give you fair warning. If I ever hear a rumor spread in Denerim that an Antivan Crow has been hiding in the Queen's wardrobe I will have you hunted to the edge of Thedas. Is that understood?"

"Most assuredly so, your Majesty."

"You, Erlina, have broken my trust in so many ways, that I can't recount it all. But there is again the small matter of saving my life too. You are forgiven Erlina, but don't you ever get involved with something like this again, without telling me.

"No, never your Majesty. Thank you," Erlina whispered gratefully.

"Now I suggest that you all depart with haste," Anora said and rubbed her temples. "One day I'll explain everything to my husband, but I really don't want him to find us all in here today. This is just… too much."

Anora watched them leave in silence. The bard girl had seemed so sincere when she had explained that damnable kiss and she realized that she really wanted to believe her, but could she? 


	13. Breaking Bonds

Chapter 13. Breaking Bonds

It was evening and Michael had hid himself in his study all day. He knew he couldn't postpone facing Anora forever, but he was in no hurry either. Maker help him, what a mess this was.

He heard a light knock on the door.

"Who is it?" he said tiredly.

"It's me," Anora said and entered the room. She closed the door behind herself and watched him in silence for a while.

"You have very… capable friends Michael. Do you realize that?" she said.

"I… eh… I know." Michael answered carefully, trying to understand her mood.

"Leliana have explained the... incident yesterday," she said.

"Oh!," he answered surprised. He had a hard time seeing any confrontation between Anora and Leliana being civil enough to allow Leliana to say anything.

"So... where is Leliana now."

"I sent her packing. I want her out of the Denerim, preferably out of the country." Anora coldly, eyes narrowing. "Why? Do you still want her?"

Michael clenched his fists and took a deep breath.

"Leliana is a friend. What she did was foolish, and maybe... maybe her feelings for me were stronger than I thought, but I still want to talk to her."

Anora felt the knot of fear in her belly again. All her intuition told her there was something more between than her husband and Leliana than he was willing to own up to.

"I won't have her here in Denerim chasing you. I won't tolerate it!" Anora said, angrily biting back a tear.

Michael shook his head.

"I don't think it would be a good idea to have her near right now either, not while her feelings are... what they are. But she is still my friend and I' not just letting her go without talking to her."

Anora stood tense and unmoving. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then she closed it again.

"Please trust me, Anora. I won't let her come between us," he continued looking at her.

"Go then," Anora said abruptly, Then she turned away from him and left the room.

Michael looked after her for a long time, then he rose and left too and headed for the gate out of the palace.

* * *

Anora anxiously watched him cross the outer courtyard towards the gate and disappear into the streets of Denerim. All the previous night she had been comparing Michael to Cailan.

Cailan had always been able to charm women too with that innocent smile of his. She did not doubt that, more often than not, it had been women throwing themselves at him. Michael was more mature and had a hidden ruthless streak that more reminded her of her father, but in some ways he had that same innocence as Cailan.

When she first had found out about Cailan's indiscretions she had been furious. He would play innocent and try to charm his way back into her good graces like a little puppy dog, but she had refused to relent.

She realized that she had probably never allowed herself to realize just how hurt she had been by Cailan. She had been too afraid of the pain to let him back close to her. Instead she had rationalized it. Told herself it was "the way things are" and erected a wall between them. Now she was frightened of being hurt again.

Anora chewed her lip. She wanted to believe in Michael, but she still wasn't sure if she dared. Then she sighed. If she did not dare risking getting hurt, she had already lost him, she realized.

* * *

Zevran was helping Leliana pack her things when a knock on the door was heard.

"Leliana, are you there?" Michael said softly.

Leliana hurried to open the door.

"Michael! What are you doing here. Does the Queen..."

"Yes, I told Anora I'm coming here. I know you are leaving, but I still want to talk to you first."

Michael stopped in the door when he saw Zevran inside.

"Zevran! Are you here? Are you in any trouble?" he said.

"No more than usual, my Prince. Have no fear," Zevran said smiling. Then he looked a Michael and Leliana.

"It was a pleasure seeing you again, Michael, but the rooms in this inn are really quite small. Maybe it would be more comfortable if I took a stroll outside.

Before either of Michael or Leliana could protest, Zevran slipped past them with a courteous bow and disappeared.

"So... what did you want to say Michael?" Leliana said nervously.

At first Michael didn't say anything. There was so many things he wanted to say, but he didn't know where to start.

"Do you remember when we were travelling together fighting the Blight?" he finally began. "You said that the Maker brought you to me, and maybe that was right. You were my best friend and I don't know if I could have been strong enough to see everything through without you."

"You don't have to tell me those things Michael," Leliana protested.

"But I do. You see, I care for you. Part of me knew that you hoped for... more than friendship, but I couldn't deal with that. Not when so much depended on me. Instead I was selfish, because I needed you as a friend."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Leliana replied. "We all felt the pressure of the task. Even if I did fancy you, it doesn't have to mean anything. Things like that are bound to happen under such crazy circumstances."

Michael shook his head.

"It was more than that Leliana. I felt it too. We have to be honest with each other if we are to be able to remain friends, and I don't want to lose that."

Leliana swallowed and nodded.

"Yes, it was more than just a fleeting fancy because of we could all die tomorrow. It was more than that," she acknowledged finally.

"Maybe the timing was just wrong," Michael said softly, "or maybe it was just that I was too scared to face it. But for whatever the reason it was, it never happened. And now the moment is gone Leliana."

"I know Michael" Leliana whispered, trying to fight back the tears.

"I am married and I love Anora now," Michael continued relentlessly, hating himself for it even if it was necessary. "I will always treasure you as a friend Leliana, but until you can get over your feelings for me, I don't think we should see each other anymore. It wouldn't be fair to any of us. Least of all to you."

"I understand," she answered him voice cracking. "Now please, just... just go away."

"I'm sorry," Michael whispered.

Leliana watched him leave before she closed the door behind him. Then she threw herself on the bed crying.

Michael found Zevran waiting outside the inn. Zevran looked at Michael's face and realized what must have passed inside.

"Please Zevran," Michael said to him. "Take care of her will you."

Zevran nodded and went inside the tavern.

"I wish we could have met under different circumstances, Zevran" Michael called after him.

"So do I Michael, so do I."

* * *

Michael's heart was aching as he entered the palace again. It had hurt more than he had believed it would to say goodbye to Leliana. Now he still wasn't sure how Anora would feel about everything.

He found Anora waiting for him in their bed chamber. She sat on their bed in her nightgown.

"So..?" she said.

"I've said goodbye to Leliana as I said I would. I don't think she will be back for a long time."

"I see," Anora replied and got up from the bed.

"I am still mad at you, you know," she continued, stepping closer to him.

"I understand," he answered looking down at the floor. "Maybe I deserve that."

"You do," she said tersely. "I don't think I'll ever forgive you for kissing that woman, no matter what excuses she has made for you."

Then her face softened and she took his hands in her.

"But I don't want to lose you, Michael," she murmured.

"You won't lose me, I promise," he whispered hoarsly. Then he buried his face in her hair.

"I love you, Anora. I love you so much."

* * *

"Do you think she'll forgive him?" Leliana wondered.

"Of course she will," Zevran answered her. "She will make him pay for it no doubt, but eventually she will forgive him."

Zevran sat on the roof of the Royal Palace in Denerim, with Leliana's head on his lap.

"I suppose they will work it out then," Leliana sighed.

"Yes they will."

He is all yours now Queen, Leliana thought bitterly to herself. But he did love me once. I know he did.

Zevran gently patted her cheek as they both watched the setting sun.

"I just wish she could teach him to dress better," she said finally.

"Fashion is lost on Fereldans," Zevran replied.


	14. Family Matters

Chapter 14: Family Matters

Two month's had passed since the incident with the Leliana and Zevran. Michael sat at his as often before with a packet of letters with accounts of various supplies being sent to the royal army. He lifted the quill to write a reply to one of the letters, then he put it back and let his mind wander.

His wife was a truly formidable woman and an equally formidable Queen. He was no novice when it came to politics. He had been well educated by his father Bryce, but he had to admit that he did not ever imagine himself being able to be the ruler she was.

It wasn't easy to live with such a woman, but he respected her immensely. Now and then it seemed to him that they lived their whole life together with politics, accounts and treaties.

It wasn't fair to blame her though. More often than not it was he who perpetuated their discussions into endless debates. Many times it was a delight to discuss things with her, sometimes just matching wits and sometimes trying to solve things together.

She would get impatient with him at times if he kept it up too much. He had to be honest with himself and agree with her too. It was hard to explain to her, but he still felt a need to impress her with his knowledge.

She was beautiful and intelligent and when he least expected it, she could very funny. He loved her and he was sure she felt something for him, but couldn't quite say what. She seemed to guard part of her feelings from him still. Maybe that was why he still tried so hard to prove himself to her. He wanted to reach her, past that guard.

At least she no longer held her distance from him in bed he thought, smiling to himself. Their lovemaking was no longer just an embarrassing duty, it was a moment of real closeness and he valued that change in their relationship immensely.

It wasn't just the physical act. He loved those moments when they where undressing and going to bed or just lying together under the blanket. Then they would small talk and gossip privately and he felt like her friend and equal and not struggling to prove himself.

* * *

A knock on the door, brought him back from his reverie. Before he had time to ask who it was, the door opened and a tall dark figure clad in grey entered the room.

"There you are," he heard the all too familiar voice of Loghain Mac Tir.

"Loghain, I didn't expect you here. What brings you to Denerim? " he said when he had recovered his wits.

"Those damnable Orlesian wardens sent me on an errand to Vigil's Keep, so I decided to go home and pay their Royal Majesties a visit on the way," Loghain said leaning on the doorway. "Offer my respects and all that."

"I see," Michael replied. "It's always good to see you Loghain."

Michael regarded Loghain carefully.

"Well, your enthusiasm is heartwarming," Loghain said sarcastically after an awkward silence.

"You come back to Denerim without any prior notice," Michael said in a measured voice. "And you barge into my room unannounced. Forgive me if I sense there is more to it than just a friendly visit to court."

"I need an appointment to see my son in law now?" Loghain replied.

"Of course not, " Michael answered.

Michael and Loghain stared at each other for a while, both waiting for the other to say something.

"Have you seen Anora yet?" Michael finally asked.

"No, I wanted to talk to you first," Loghain said after a while. "No doubt she'll pick up my scent and come running soon, so I might as well get to the point."

"I picked up a rumor in Montsimmard about you. There is a popular ditty that the minstrels in Orlais sometimes sing about Maric and an Orlesian spy. It's just romantic fancy and doesn't have anything with the truth to do. "

A shadow seemed to pass Loghain's face. Then he cleared his throat and continued.

"Anyway. The last month they have changed the lyrics and now it's about you bedding some redhead Orlesian spy. "

Michael sighed. Wouldn't Anora just love to hear about that, he thought.

"So, is it true?" Loghain said bluntly.

"No, it's not," Michael replied, trying to keep his voice level.

Michael met Loghain's glare without flinching.

"Hm... good," Loghain finally said.

"Father? What are you doing here?" Anora suddenly said.

"Just paying my respects," Loghain said blandly.

Loghain moved aside to let Anora in. She went to Michael's side and looked suspiciously from him to Loghain.

"What's going on? What are you talking about?" she demanded.

"Just catching up. Right?" Michael replied and forced a smile.

"Indeed," Loghain said.

Anora cocked her head and looked carefully at Michael. Then she turned to look at her father.

"Is that all? You come all the way from Orlais just to say hello, without announcing yourself?"

"He has an errand to Vigil's Keep. But he decided to stop by in Denerim. Isn't that nice, dear?" Michael said.

As he talked he put his arm around Anora's waist. At first she resisted and looked at him annoyed, but then she saw Loghain's gaze and let herself be held closer to Michael.

Loghain's eye brow went up for a moment. Then he nodded imperceptibly.

"I see everything is well with you," Loghain said after another awkward silence. " That's good. But I should probably not tarry much longer."

"You are welcome to stay here for the night of course." Anora said. "I'll find a guest room for you."

"No need. I'm staying with the rest of the Grey Wardens at the tavern. They're not a bad lot, my command, if you can believe it. Not like Fereldans of course, but in a few years I might actually turn them into a half decent troop."

Loghain seemed about to leave when he turned looked intently at them.

"Now that everything seems so cozy between you two, are you going to start getting an heir soon?"

"Father!" Anora grew red faced.

"You can't wait forever, Anora. You're not exactly getting any younger," Loghain said in a matter of fact voice.

Anora looked as she was about to explode. Michael hurried to try and defuse the situation.

"I assure you that you'll be the first to know," he said, tightening his hold around Anora's waist.

Loghain stood silent for a moment, then he shrugged.

"Good night then... your Majesties," he said and left.

Anora paced furiously in Michael's study, biting a nail.

"Anora..." Michael tried.

"Don't!" Anora dismissed him angrily.

Michael looked out the window and saw that night had already fallen.

"It's getting late, aren't you coming to bed?" he said, finally.

Anora paused and nodded then.

* * *

They walked together down the dark corridors in the castle towards their own quarters.

"I look forward to seeing your old home soon, or I suppose that it's my home now" Michael said, to take her mind off her father's visit.

Anora snorted.

They were planning to go to Gwaren next week. Technically it was his home they were going to visit. She had granted him the title Teyrn of Gwaren at their wedding, but so far he had not even had time to visit his Teyrni. It would be his first visit to the city that now was supposed to be his domain. He wondered wryly how much that title actually meant to Anora. Gwaren had been run by the same seneschal since the days when Loghain was Teyrn. Anora had assured him that seneschal Aiold was dependable.

He had tried to get Anora to tell him a bit about what he needed to know as Teyrn, but she had only launched into a torrent of names, places and figures that meant nothing to him. Maybe now at least he would get a feel for what being Teyrn of Gwaren really meant.

The guards came to attention as they entered their quarters.

He wanted to ask her more about Gwaren, but she was not in the mood for talk. It was obvious that she was still thinking about her father's visit, as they undressed.

Instead he gently kissed he cheek, closed his eyes and tried to find sleep.


	15. A Royal Visit

Chapter 15. A Royal Visit

Anora sat in the gilded royal carriage with her chamber maid Erlina. She watched the familiar looking sight of Gwaren's forests of huge fir and pine trees. The thin chilly mist in the morning was a sign of the approaching autumn.

Her carriage was in the middle of a long column of mounted men at arms that made their way along the winding trail in the Brecilian Passage. At the head of the column was a group of dragon bone armored knights bearing banners with the royal arms of Ferelden.

It was the first time since her coronation that Queen Anora was going back to her home in Gwaren where she had grown up. She had not been there many times since she had moved to Denerim, when she married king Cailan. She felt a mixture of eagerness and nervousness. She was looking forward to seeing the familiar sights and faces from her youth, but she felt a little uncomfortable about going there with her husband.

Technically it was his home they were going to visit. She had granted him the title Teyrn of Gwaren at their wedding. At the time she had been a little uncomfortable handing so much power to him, but she felt sure that Gwaren was still loyal to her family and Gwaren was so far away, that it would be hard for Michael to build a power base there, without leaving Denerim.

Since then Anora had come to revaluate her husband. He had proven to be a very loyal, if sometimes difficult consort. She could still not make her mind up about whether she liked the role he had come to play in her court or not. He always bowed to her will, but usually not before he had questioned it. They tried to keep their important discussions privately, but he could find things to discuss almost any time. At times she found his questions stimulating. He was quick to learn and often had a fresh perspective on things. More often than not she would grow impatient and brush aside his objections to get things done though.

Maybe it would have been easier if he had only been her consort and ally and nothing more. But in the time she had known him, she had discovered that she had begun to truly care for him.

She had never intended to let romantic fancy influence her choice in partner. she had had no real interest in anything beyond what would further her ambitions. Her marriage to Michael had been just that, a political calculation to ensure that she achieved her ambition. Yet, now she found herself more and more attracted to him.

It was thrilling, but also difficult. She found herself longing for his embrace whenever she got angry or upset, but half the time it was him she was upset with in the first place. How could a man be at the same time so annoying and so comforting?

It was all a big mistake, she thought humorously. She should have married Maric's bastard Alistair, and taken Michael as her lover instead. That would have been so much easier. Of course, she added to herself, back then she would have considered the idea of taking a lover totally absurd.

Anora sighed and let her eyes wander to Michael's broad armored back, as he rode on his favorite black destrier, a few yards ahead of her carriage. He was at least pleasing to look at, and there was nothing wrong with his physical fitness. They had more than once used a more intimate way to end their rows lately. Her cheeks colored slightly at the memory and she returned to watching the forest, but now and then her eyes drifted back to her husband

Michael himself also mused over the visit to Gwaren. As the sun rose and the air got warmer, they passed more and more settlements and the forest was replaced by farmlands. Michael carefully regarded the commoners they were passing. The people of Gwaren was a sturdy folk of loggers and fishermen.

He noticed that even if people moved away deferentially when they saw the royal banners, there was little of the fear and awe usually seen in the peasant's faces when a column of royal knights passed.

Michael kew that the inhabitants were stubborn and proud. The foot soldiers of Gwaren had a fierce reputation, especially when led by someone as capable as Loghain.

This was the place where his wife had been raised, he remembered, and she was the most proud and stubborn woman he had known in his entire life. When he had gotten married to the queen, he had been determined to do his best to be a good husband to her. It was a difficult resolve to keep at times. Whatever he did, it seemed to annoy her when he least expected it. Despite their often volatile relationship, he had to admit that he had come to respect her and even love her.

* * *

Eventually they reached the city of Gwaren. By then the sun was setting again behind them. The las rays of sunlight lit the banners above the city gate, as they entered the city.

They rode through the main street until they reached a small plaza outside the Teyrn's estate. Michael got off his horse and went back to help Anora out of the carriage. In front of them a group of dignitaries awaited them.

"Greetings your Majesty and welcome to Gwaren." A tall, hawk nosed man that Michael assumed was Seneschal Aiold, bowed and knelt before the queen. "And greetings, your Highness," he added after a short pause.

"It's so good to see you Aiold, I trust everything is well with you?" Anora said smiling and swept in front of Michael.

"The years have been kind to me, but eventually they do add up," the seneschal said and rose slowly.

"Nonsense. You look as sprightly as ever," Anora answered him warmly.

Anora continued to exchange familiarities with the rest of the gathered nobility, while Michael waited silently behind her. In the end it was the seneschal Aiold who cleared his throat and asked Anora if she might do him the honor and introduce her husband to them.

"Of course," Anora said quickly and tugged at Michael's arm. "Seneschal, let me introduce you to the hero of Ferelden and my husband, Prince Michael."

Michael acknowledged the greeting a bit stiffer than he had intended. It irked him a bit that she hadn't mentioned the fact that he was now the Teyrn of Gwaren and right now she was actually as much his guest as anything else. Then he decided to get over himself and forced himself to smile. This had been her home for years, but he had never even been here before.

"We are pleased to welcome you home to Gwaren, Teyrn," Aiold said, making up for Anora's omission.

Michael smiled and nodded to the rest of the bowing and curtsying nobles. Then they both followed the seneschal into the estate.

The Teyrn's estate was small and rustic compared to Highever, but Michael immediately took a liking to it. There was something wholesome and honest about the place. He was suddenly struck by the absurd idea that Anora must have run in this hall when she was just a little kid. It seemed impossible to picture, but the thought still brought a smile to his face.

The servants and staff of the estate was lined up inside the main hall, bowing and curtseying deeply as they entered hand in hand. Anora walked up to a few of them and traded a few quick pleasantries.

"Nan," she said smiling to a grey old woman and kissed her cheek. The woman whispered something to Anora that made her blush.

"I told you never to use that name again, Nan," Anora chided her.

"It doesn't matter. You'll always be my little girl," the old woman said. "but aren't you going to introduce me to your handsome new husband dearie?"

Anora seemed to almost blush when she turned towards Michael, who watched the scene amusedly.

"Um... Michael, this is Elga, my old nanny," she said uncomfortably. "Nan, this is my husband, Prince Michael."

"I am charmed to meet you, my lady," Michael said smiling and kissed the old woman's hand.

Elga clucked merrily at his gesture while Anora quickly steered him away from her still red faced.

As soon as they settled in, a banquet had been arranged for them. Like most about the estate, the delicacies served was less spectacular and more wholesome than Michael was used to from Denerim. He found it a very pleasant change.

Anora seemed different than in Denerim too. She seemed livelier and more talkative than she used to be. She was constantly talking to the seneschal Aiold and other dignitaries from Gwaren. She was mostly talking business it seemed to him, but she still seemed to be in a good mood.

She hardly had time to say much to him, but he didn't really mind it. She was coming home after all. He knew how important it was for her to feel that she knew all the facts and numbers. No doubt she wanted to catch up with everything that was happening in her old home. Besides, he was a bit tired from the journey. Even with all the training he had received he never quite could relax on horseback.

"Tired, your Highness?" an older man across the table asked him.

"Yes, maybe a bit," Michael agreed and tried to remember how the man introduced himself before.

The man smiled when he noticed his discomfort.

"I am sorry if I left you at a disadvantage. There are so must be so many names for you to remember. I am Bann Odwin," he said.

"Of course," Michael smiled sheepishly.

"Might I ask what you think of Gwaren, your Highness?" Bann Odwin continued.

"It's far too soon for me to form an opinion, but from what I see, Gwaren seems to be a very good place."

"Of course, your Highness," Bann Odwin responded.

Michael found himself being a bit uncomfortable. He felt as if Bann Odwin was taking his measure and he wasn't sure what impression he was making.

"I have to admit to feel a bit at a loss here," he said after a moments awkward silence. " As Teyrn I should be responsible for the well being of the good people here, and yet my duties as Prince has so far prevented me from fulfilling my duties to Gwaren. It is my hope that I can rectify this now."

"No one is doubting that you have many pressing duties." Bann Odwin replied seriously. "You are not only Prince but Commander of the Grey Wardens too until recently. You are the hero of all Ferelden and a credit to your Cousland heritage."

Michael cringed a bit. He was never comfortable with the accolades that was heaped on him as the designated hero of the country. He had a nagging suspicion that much of it was because it suited Anora's ambitions anyway.

"Be that as it may. Today I would like to be here first of all as Teyrn of Gwaren," Michael said in an attempt to steer talks away from the mention of heroics.

"Indeed, your Highness," Bann Odwin said and nodded gravely.

Michael still had the nagging feeling that Bann Odwin was somehow waiting for him to say something, but he was too tired to give it anymore thought. He figured it was best to say as little as possible until he knew more about the situation.

* * *

The rest of the evening seemed uneventful to Michael. It was late when they retired to the room set aside for Anora and him. Michael was already in bed when Anora was finished getting ready for sleep. She stopped and gazed at him with an odd look.

"What?" he said. "That look of yours. What have I done?"

"Oh, nothing Michael," Anora said and looked a little sheepish. "it's just that... this is my old room when I used to live here. It just looked strange, seeing you in my old bed."

"Oh, afraid your parents will discover us?" Michael asked her grinning.

"Don't be stupid," she said, slapping him in feigned indignation as she climbed into bed.

"Michael, I'm really tired," she murmured, when she blew out the last candle and he put his arm around her.

"Well, good. So am I," he whispered back, and kissed her lightly on the cheek. And it was almost true.


	16. Altered States

Chapter 16. Altered States

The next day was grey with overcast and an occasional light drizzle of rain. The seneschal Aiold offered to take them on a tour and show them the city. Michael readily accepted, but Anora excused herself, citing the bad weather. No doubt she wanted to pour over some more of the city's accounts instead Michael thought wryly.

Michael listened intently as the seneschal described the different parts of Gwaren. He saw the dockside with its ships and boats of all sizes, fisheries and lumber piles. And he saw the huge market where traders from different parts of Ferelden and abroad made deals. There was an aura of thriving commerce. Michael noted that several of the houses belonging to various trading houses seemed recently built or had new floors added to older structures.

"This town seems to be thriving, seneschal," Michael remarked.

"We certainly like to think so, your Highness," Aiold acknowledged approvingly. "We may be a bit of a backwater here, but we are proud of our accomplishments."

"And rightly so," Michael agreed. "But tell me, is there any problems here I should know of?"

"Problems, your Highness?" the Seneschal said cautiously.

"Now, don't get me wrong seneschal," Michael tried to reassure him." I'm not here to find any signs of wrong doing. I only want to get a feel for the political situation here."

"And get a feel for how open your seneschal wants to be with you as well, no doubt?" Aiold said in a measured voice.

"It's no doubt a delicate situation for you." Michael nodded. " You wish to be loyal to your city and to our Queen, but hopefully also to me as your new Teyrn."

"It is my sincere hope that there need be no difference between those loyalties," the seneschal said and regarded Michael intently.

Michael got the feeling that there was more the man wanted to say, but not until he had received some form of reassurance from him.

"I don't know what rumours you may have heard regarding me," Michael said finally. "But you have my word that I only wish to act in the Queen's and Kingdom's best interests."

The seneschal nodded.

"I humbly beg your forgive me, your Highness," Aiold said gravely. "We are far from Denerim here and I didn't know..." his voice trailed off.

"You didn't know if I was a man forced on the Queen as a political agreement or someone who truly looked to her best interest?" Michael suggested.

"The thought had crossed my mind, your Highness," Aiold answered.

"I appreciate your candor seneschal," Michael said to him. "Let me assure you that I honour the Queen and if you are loyal to her, then I only think that it does you credit."

"So there are no disagreements between you and the Queen then?"

"On the contrary, we disagree all the time, but that does not make me any less loyal to her," Michael said and smiled.

"Hrmm, I see..." The seneschal said and made a wry face. "Knowing the Queen, I suppose that is… understandable."

"Now with that little chat out of the way seneschal. What can you tell me of the situation here in Gwaren?" Michael asked, hoping he hadn't become too familiar.

Aiold regarded him silently, and it seemed to Michael that he was trying to get the measure of him. He only hoped that he would find him sincere and open up to him. If he ever was going to be Teyrn of Gwaren in anything but name, then he needed the seneschal to trust him. Then he seemed to make up his mind and began to speak.

"We are, as you have said, a moderately prosperous town. We escaped the worst effects of the Blight and the war, even if we lost many sons and daughters on the battlefields, like every other place in Ferelden."

"Traditionally our main source of income is lumber and to some extent fishing. The late Teyrna promoted the carpenters guild here, so that we could sell more manufactured goods, rather than just raw lumber. This has been quite successful. Even if the level of skill of our carpenters may not be up to that of Antivan masters, we do sell a lot of simpler products."

"This has generated a lot of income for the carpenter's guild, but it has also shifted the balance of power here. Traditionally the main powers are the landowners who own the forests and the merchants who handle the trade in the city. Now the carpenters guild are a force to be reckoned here."

"And the fact that the late Teyrna happened to be the daughter of a cabinet maker, haven't hurt them either I suppose," Michael surmised.

"Indeed. And whenever new wealth, generates new power, then the old power gets upset," Aiold said. "Here the merchants have mostly accepted the situation, as new products also means increased trade, but the landowners resent the situation."

"Have they lost money in dealing with the carpenter's guild?" Michael asked.

"On the contrary, if anything they have made more money from it, but they have lost in prestige and power here, and that is something the old nobility values even higher than prosperity."

"It was all kept under wraps, as long as Loghain Mac Tir was Teyrn. He was immensely popular here among the Landowners. Even if he was born a commoner, he represented what they valued, martial prowess and heroism in battle. Many noblemen here supported him wholeheartedly during the war, if you pardon me saying so."

"So some of those noblemen blamed his wife instead for the success of the carpenter's guild, and now... his daughter?" Michael asked.

"Very much so I fear."

Suddenly Michael made the mental connection to yesterday's events at the banquet.

"Would perhaps Bann Odwin, who I met at the banquet yesterday, be playing a role in these events?" he asked.

"Indeed, your highness," Aiold confirmed. "Bann Odwin is one the most influential Bann's here. He will no doubt approach you about limiting the influence of the guilds in Gwaren."

"To them you are maybe an opportunity. You are not only a hero, but one of Cousland blood. A finer lineage can hardly be found in Ferelden now that the Therin line is extinct. They value that."

Michael shook his head and then looked at the seneschal. It wouldn't be the first time someone would have approached him to make him influence the Queen, but this smelled very close to treason. He did not like the idea that he could be seen as a potential partner by such people.

In a sense the situation in Gwaren was a mirror of what would happen elsewhere in Ferelden. Anora believed that Ferelden's future lay in education and trade, not just in the traditions of the nobility. It was easy to see why she believed so, with her background, but Michael had begun to share her belief. And as far as he was concerned Gwaren was a good example of the soundness of her ideas.

The city was obviously thriving. Things where not without problems, but as much as he valued his own proud heritage, Michael had always been taught to see his Cousland blood as a duty to excel, never an easy way to wealth and power. He didn't pretend his name hadn't given him a great advantage over others, but it was also something he had a duty to make something out of.

Queen Anora did not come from a long line of nobility, but she had proved herself to have the strength, the will and the foresight to be a very capable monarch. As far as he was concerned it was his duty to serve her, not question her heritage. And I do love her, he thought, smiling to himself. I suppose Bann Odwin and his likes didn't count on that.

Then Michael realized that he had lost himself in his thoughts and that the Seneschal was expecting a response from him.

"Tell me, do you believe that this… discontent could take dangerous forms?" Michael asked, thinking of the conspiracy he had uncovered in Amaranthine before.

"I have no proof of anything beyond political squabble, and that is, as you may well know the order of the day here in Ferelden. But I can't shake the fear that this malcontent could be fermenting into something worse."

Michael nodded. Ignoring such discontent was dangerous. That had certainly been proved in Amaranthine. And the conflict between town and country side was the same everywhere.

"I can understand your previous apprehension," Michael finally said "If I had had dishonourable intents, then these noblemen would have been an opportunity for me to gain power by allying with them."

Aiold held up his hands dismissingly.

"I will keep this in mind Aiold." Michael continued. "Thank you for trusting me with your thoughts. I will consider this carefully. Have you informed the Queen of any of this yet?"

"No, your Highness. I haven't had the opportunity yet, and please, don't read too much into this, your Highness. This is only my private musings. There is no proof of anything."

"I understand, and maybe this is nothing you need to bother the Queen with yet. Just keep me informed of anything you find out."

The Seneschal seemed like he wanted to say something, but changed his mind.

"I am going to visit Bann Odwin the day after tomorrow for a boar hunt. If he wants to enlist me for his cause, then that is as good a time as any for him. You must follow your conscience in this matter, but I would prefer not to make my wife upset unless it's necessary. She has enough to think about as it is."

"Very well, your Highness. As you wish," Aiold replied.

"I am glad we had this opportunity to get to know each other, seneschal. I fear that I will have less time to spend here in Gwaren than the city deserves, so it is good to know that it is in good hands"

"The pleasure is all mine, your Highness," the seneschal said, bowing deeply.


	17. Court Duty

Chapter 17. Court Duty

The day before the boar hunt, the Queen and Prince received a deputation from the major guilds in the city. The reception was held in the main court hall in the Teyrn's estate.

The most important dignitaries were Mistress Veda of the carpenter's guild and Master Theron of the merchant's guild. Mistress Veda was a stocky grey haired woman with a determined chin dressed in deep blue velvet. Master Theron was a portly man with a round face, dressed in green. Both wore clothes richly lined with gold and wore much jewellery.

Their appearance was seemed almost garish to Michael. He felt the instinctive distaste many noblemen felt for how merchants often displayed their wealth to assert their prestige. His father had never condoned overly luxurious dressing.

Once all the leaders of guilds had introduced themselves and presented various gifts, they where seated around a large table to discuss the guilds petitions to their court.

Michael had awaited this session with some trepidation. He did not want Anora to just assume that she could run Gwaren as her personal fief, which was more or less how she had acted so far. If he was Teyrn of Gwaren, then she would have to trust him and let him be that.

At the same time this was hardly the best occasion for him to assert his role. Most of the time the guilds wanted to discuss economical matters, like taxes, profit and regulation, and this was an area where she clearly outshone him.

Anora had an amazing capacity to absorb facts and numbers, he reflected. She did not like to trust others to supply her with facts that she could check herself. Some people would obsess so much with minutiae that they lost sight of the big picture, but he knew that this was definitely not so in her case. Still, he mused, it was so like her to bury herself in piles of accounts when she got there to get into the situation.

He had tried to discuss his role as Teyrn with Anora yesterday, but she had hardly had time to talk to him. When she finally got to bed, a time where they sometimes could discuss privately without the pressure of office, she had been too tired to listen. He decided that he would just have to try and act his role, with her approval or not.

Anora seemed to know most of the guild leaders from before and spent some time with small talk to some of them, before the discussions began.

Michael took a deep breath and just as Anora was going to call them to order, he pre-empted her.

"My lords and ladies," he said. "I know I have not had the time to properly introduce myself to you before, but now I can finally rectify this. As your new Teyrn I welcome you all here."

When he finished he had everyone's eyes fixed on him, including Anora's. She looked as she was going to say something, but then pursed her mouth and looked at him with an odd expression on her face.

There was no turning back now, Michael thought, and continued.

"I know there are no doubt many issues you wish to discuss and it is so seldom I can be here, so please bring all your matters before this court."

There was a moment of silence as many of the present guild leaders looked at him and Anora unsure where to turn.

"Please present your cases to your... Teyrn." Anora said tersely, when the silence began to embarrass them.

One by one the guild leaders began to speak. Michael had watched Anora enough times to know roughly what to expect. Most guilds depended on other guilds. Carpenters depended on loggers and landowners, loggers depended on blacksmiths, blacksmiths depended on iron merchants and so on. All guilds wanted regulations to ensure a steady stream of supplies at a fixed low cost and all guilds wanted freedom to price their own goods as highly as possible.

Mistress Veda of the carpenters guild made along speech about the importance of their manufacture to the prosperity of Gwaren and ended her speech by a rather blatant attempt to get approval for a regulation that would force all landowners to sell lumber to the guild at a fixed price, Michael assumed was far lower than the market price.

Michael looked at Anora, who only stared silently at him. There was no representative of the land owners to gainsay Mistress Veda's demand, so Michael retorted to asking her questions. He had no intent of giving in to their demands. Anora usually seemed to think that price regulations often caused more harm than good so that seemed the wisest policy until he knew more.

A few more questions confirmed his suspicion that the guild mistress was really only trying to gain an unfair advantage over the land owners, so Michael found a suitably polite way to turn her down, that failed to placate her, but actually won him, what he imagined was a small approving nod from his wife.

Next followed a petition from Master Theron, who complained about conniving Antivan merchants who stole too much business from the honest Ferelden merchants. Apparently the main evil of the Antivan merchants consisted of offering better prices than the guild. Michael knew that many places protected the local merchants, and it was in their long term interest that Ferelden merchants travelled to Anitva, rather than just the opposite.

But during one of his many lessons, his father Bryce had also mentioned that letting a guild have monopoly of all trade could lead to abuse. There had been an unusual amount of Antivan merchants in the town though. He figured that a raise in the taxation of Antivan merchants would be in order, but had no clue what an appropriate rate would be.

He decided to ask Anora what the taxation on Foreign merchants elsewhere was. She pursed her mouth and supplied him with some figures and he picked one and told Master Theron that this would be the new rate for the Antivan merchants. The guild master bowed and thanked him, but without real enthusiasm, which made Michael suspect he had picked a fair number.

The rest of the day at court, followed the same pattern. Often Michael wanted to scream silently to himself, at the greed and pettiness of the guilds. He could readily understand how many of the old nobility looked down on them with disdain. He had to remind himself that it was no doubt this blatant greed of the guilds that made them so effective in generating wealth, and wealth was a benefit to the Crown too.

He found that the easiest way to keep some semblance of control over the gathering, with his limited knowledge of the subjects, was to ask as many questions as possible. At least this forced the guild masters to turn to him, rather than squabble between themselves.

At times he turned directly to Anora for her opinion or a fact, and she readily responded with any facts he needed, but seldom offered any opinion. At times she seemed to struggle not to involve herself in some debates. Usually Michael took this as his cue to end the debate. Other times he consciously directed them to Anora instead of him, when he felt the issues involved had bearing on the Crown, rather than just local matters.

After what seemed like an, the court ended. The guild leaders one by one reaffirmed their loyalty to him and the queen before leaving, though often with considerably less enthusiasm than earlier this morning. Michael forced himself to smile, but inwardly he felt like he had been put through a miller's wheel. This was far worse than any court in Amaranthine, he reflected.

At last only he and Anora remained, except for a few guards lining the walls. Michael chewed his lip and waited for Anora's opinion of his actions during the day.

"I wish you had informed me of what you had planned today," Anora said tersely. "I could have prepared this much better with you, if I had known that you intended to take over this yourself," she said.

"I tried Anora," Michael said defensively. "You were too tired to even discuss things yesterday, if you remember."

Anora snorted at him. They both remained silent, while Michael wondered if this was going to be another row or not.

"I suppose that, under the circumstances, things could have been a lot worse," she said finally and tossed her head dismissingly.

Michael sighed with relief, as she left him. He seemed to have gotten away with it, at least for now.


	18. Royal Pains

Chapter 18. Royal Pains

Their dinner was, by royal standards, small and informal. This still meant that long tables where brought forth and set in the court hall and that most of the household ate together. But at least there was no new dignitaries Michael had to entertain. For once he could exchange a few private words with Anora instead.

Their conversation soon turned to the events in court earlier that day. Anora launched herself into a series of small lectures on things he should have said and done differently, if only he had been better prepared. Even if she still grudgingly accepted that on the whole everything had gone well.

It was partly because of their difference in style, Michael thought. Anora excelled with facts and numbers. She would often get her way simply by being the person who knew all the real facts best at the table. Michael preferred to reason and to direct people by letting them produce the facts.

He wished that Anora would see beyond her own ways and recognize that his way of doing things could produce results just as hers, but she still seemed to be affronted by the way he had taken charge at the meeting, even if she wouldn't quite come out and say it.

She really doesn't like to admit that I can handle things myself, he thought to himself, and felt a stab of resentment. He wondered if she still somehow felt threatened by him, as it seemed so important for her to put him down.

Those thoughts put him in a bad mood, and he began to argue more fiercely with her than he usually would. It wasn't long before their discussion had turned into an angry shouting match. The rest of the household tried to ignore it, but when Anora and Michael paused to glare at each other, an embarrassing silence settled in the hall.

As soon as he had eaten enough, Michael rose and excused himself and left. He needed to clear his head and the best way he knew how to was physical exercise on the sparring field. Ser Gavren, the leader of the troop of royal knights that had accompanied them from Denerim decided, after some deliberation, that he had better spar with the Prince himself, when he was in that mood. He had been bruised before in such practice, and gotten over his worst fear of the fierce blows the Prince would deliver when he was upset.

Anora remained at the table, watching her husband leave with a sinking feeling. Why did it always end like this? she wondered. Her complaints had been more than justified she thought. He did try to take over a court she was far better qualified to lead than him. Even if he was technically Teyrn, she knew Gwaren in a way he could not. He should have discussed things with her first. Despite this, she had let him do it, and now when she wanted to correct his mistakes, he had thrown a childish tantrum.

Anora tried to concentrate on work in the library, after the evening meal, but her heart was not in it. Her feelings kept disturbing her. She had had many rows with Cailan, she remembered, but she had always been able to shrug them off. With Michael things had become different. The knot of pain in her stomach she felt, as she watched him leave in anger, wouldn't go away.

She considered retiring early, but she didn't like to go to bed alone. Instead she brought a packet of correspondence from a trade representative from Orlais with her upstairs and asked Erlina to follow her.

She relaxed slightly as Erlina's soothing hands began to undo the braids in her hair. It was more than just the feeling of her fingers as she gently combed her hair. Her strict austere coiffure was also part of the mental armour she wore in office as Queen. Here in her privacy she could let down her guard and relax.

When Erlina was finished, Anora waved her off for the night and settled in bed with the packet of Orlesian letters.

It was considerably later when Michael returned inside and joined her in their chamber. He felt calmer and hoped that they could leave their previous argument behind them. He didn't want to tear up those feelings again.

Anora smiled briefly at him and put down her notes when he arrived. She wanted to say something that would make things better between them, but she couldn't quite figure out what to say. As the silence grew between them, she reached out and touched him instead. He turned to kiss her lightly, and then they clung to each other.

* * *

Michael woke up in the middle of the night. As he reached for the chamber pot, he realized that he was hungry. He thought about it for a moment and then he got up and tiptoed out of their bed chamber and headed for the kitchen.

A sleepy guard came quickly to attention when Michael headed down the stairs. Michael described his errand and the guard set off to try and wake someone from the kitchen staff.

Michael sttled down on a wooden bench in the dark empty kitchen and lit a candle.

"There you are, your Highness," a kindly voice said behind him.

Michael turned around to see that it was Elga, the old woman that Anora had introduced to him as her old nanny, when she had been a little girl.

"I'm sorry to inconvenience you like this Elga," Michael said, feeling a bit ashamed that the woman had had to get out of bed on his account.

"Don't worry dear. At my age you don't need much sleep anyway," Elga said dismissively.

She began to produce bread, ham and cheese for him.

"So what brings you up in the middle of the night, your Highness?" Elga said and sat down opposite him.

"I was just hungry," Michael replied, taken aback about the old woman's question.

"Had a bit of a fight with my girl, did you?" Elga said in matter of fact tone. "It was the same with her father, the old Teyrn here you know. Everytime he had a row with his wife, Loghain would go riding half across the country or beat up some of his knights to let the worst out, and then he would come back hungry to make up."

Michael shook his head in disbelief. He wasn't sure what he thought was more embarrassing for him, her frank words about such personal matters, or the fact that he was apparently so like Loghain of all people in these matters.

"Did that happen often?" he couldn't help asking.

"He is the same as his daughter. They both have lots of pride and stubbornness, bless their hearts."

Michael nodded slowly and smiled involuntarily. It was some family he had married into.

Suddenly he heard a scraping noise behind him and then he saw Anora stnding in the doorway in her nightgown.

"I woke up and you weren't there," she said accusingly.

"Im' sorry, I was hungry," Michael replied.

"Don't worry Buttercup, I'm not going to keep your husband much longer," Elga said and winked at Michael.

"Nan!" Anora burst out angrily. "I told you not to call me that."

"Oh, pooh child! You could be the empress of all Thedas, but you would still be my little Buttercup to me."

"You're impossible Nan!" Anora said stamping her foot. Then she turned to look at Michael.

"I'm going to back to bed now. Are you coming husband?" she said haughtily.

Michael quickly finished the last ham and rose to follow her.

"Good night then... Nan," he said smiling and hurried after his wife.

"Buttercup?" he said with a little smile, as he caught up with her.

"Don't you dare..!" Anora replied, glaring dangerously at him.

They got back to their bed chamber, climbed back into bed and prepared to sleep again. Michael leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

"Good night." she murmured.

"Good night, Buttercup," he whispered and ducked away as she slapped him.


	19. Noble Intentions

Chapter 19. Noble Intentions

The next day was the day for the boar hunt at Bann Odwin's estate. Michael had no real illusions about the event. The hunt was just a pretext he assumed, this was the landed nobility's chance to present their claims and grievances to them, just as the guilds had the day before.

It took half a day to reach Bann Odwin's estate. Michael decided to leave his war horse in the stable and join Anora in her carriage instead. After yesterday's row he wanted to try and talk things through with her, before they met the nobility of Gwaren.

"I suppose this is when we get to hear what the nobility wants from us," he said to her, as their carriage made its way along the road leading to Bann Odwin's estate.

"Yes," Anora said tonelessly.

"Is there anything I should know about it," he asked her, trying to keep his voice light.

Anora frowned and regarded him carefully. He sensed that she had yesterdays row in mind too. They were treading on difficult ground and neither of them wanted it to go bad again.

"It won't be as in court," she after pausing a while. "It will be all pleasantries and light conversation, and then they will no doubt try to ambush you with whatever demands they have, but you should already understand that."

Michael nodded. It was as much as he feared it would be. He had already been at a few similar events in Denerim. He supposed that Ferelden politics was tame compared to the fabled Great Game in Orlais, but some things where the same everywhere.

"I take it we will be separated a lot of the time," Michael said. "They will have me put crossbow bolts in the head of those animals, while you are elsewhere?"

This time it was Anora's time to nod. There was no tradition that forbade the Queen to take part in hunts, but Anora didn't care for them so she would stay at the manor.

Michael didn't really enjoy many of these hunting games either. Too often it was just lining up the guests to slaughter animals that were simply herded before them by servants. But the Hero of Ferelden was expected to display his prowess at every opportunity.

"Indeed. You are the new Teyrn," Anora said and looked away, "so they will no doubt want to get a feel for you and maybe force some promise from you, while you are… unprepared."

Michael realized how tense Anora had become. Whatever he thought of her words, she really didn't want this to end in another row. He nodded slowly.

"I will not make any premature promises," Michael said and stopped himself before he added an impatient "of course".

"The seneschal gave me pretty good recount of the political climate here," he said instead. "But if you think there is something specific I should know, please tell me."

Anora thought a bit and then began to tell him various facts about all the nobles and their estates and relationships. He tried desperately to keep track of all the names she mentioned, but he was sure he would forget half of them.

Anora seemed to finish, but then she opened her mouth again.

"There is one more thing you might want to… know about," she said carefully. "Bann Odwin has a daughter with a bit of a… reputation."

Anora's voice trailed off. Erlina, who until then had sat silently and pretended not to listened, snorted.

"Her Majesty means, that lady Ywaine is a vulture who tries to sink her claws in any important man she can see," Erlina said derisively.

Michael winced inwardly. He did not want that kind of trouble. He looked at Anora for a sign of what she wanted to hear, but she looked out at the countryside and didn't meet his gaze.

"I see," Michael said slowly. "I hope it isn't as bad as you say, but I suppose it's bad politics to be outright rude to someone like a Bann's daughter, but I'm sure I can steer away any unwanted attention."

Anora continued to ignore him and look out the scenery.

It was going to be long day, Michael thought.

* * *

When they arrived at the estate, Bann Odwin, his wife and a group other Banns and lesser nobility awaited them outside the manor house. Michael stepped out of the carriage and then helped Anora out. He put her hand on his and went to receive the bows and curtseys of welcoming.

He couldn't help but notice the young woman with a long, rather striking, black hair that smiled at him on Bann Odwin's left side. He assumed this was the Bann's daughter, lady Ywaine. He decided to have as little to do with her as possible.

Michael and Anora were introduced to everyone present. As usual, Anora seemed to know most of them and exchanged little pleasantries with them, while Michael recognized a few from the banquet, the first day they had arrived and tried match their names and faces with the facts Anora had given him.

Bann Darin a short jovial man, who had the third largest trace of land in Gwaren according to Anora and his wife, who Anora claimed was the daughter of a noblemen from Redcliff.

Bann Alenna who was a tall woman with a rather severe chin, who according to Anora's gossip before was alone and so far had been singularly good at scaring off possible suitors.

And so the parade of names and faces continued. Bann Odwin himself was one of the first to introduce himself and he soon confirmed that the dark haired beauty was his daughter, lady Ywaine. She didn't immediately strike Michael as the flirty type, even if she maybe sought his eyes a bit too eagerly.

As soon as the introductions where made they were invited to the usual big meal in the great hall at the manor. Bann Odwin seated Ywaine opposite Michael, to his dismay. She seemed pleasant enough to converse with though. At least it seemed he wouldn't have to deal with veiled attempts at forcing him to give some talk with political implications.

He turned to Anora for help in dealing with the embarrassing situation, but she ignored him completely, being involved in some lengthy debate with Bann Darin about iron prices. Michael waited a while, but then gave up, gave Ywaine a forced smile and continued to listen half heartedly to her talk about her father's horses.

Anora meanwhile was silently cursing her husband. Why wouldn't he just tell the little wench off? She was obviously trying to charm him and he just let her keep doing it. She determinedly ignored his pathetic attempts to talk to her, to let him know she was not amused by the way he let Ywaine go on.

Michael tried to ignore Ywaine and engage Bann Odwin in some small talk instead, but he seemed more than content to let his daughter take over the conversation. Michael was just relieved when they finally rose from the table.

They gathered outside in the courtyard afterwards. Bann Odwin and a group of nobles where dressed in hunting garb and armed with crossbows for the hunt. A group of men at arms with spears and horns joined the group. Dismayed Michael realized that lady Ywaine had changed her gown to a shapely green tunic and leggings and was apparently going to join the hunt.

Michael went over to Anora and to bid her farewell before he left. Anora gave him a quick peck on the cheek, but there was hardly any warmth in it. Michael tried to find something to say or do, but the hunting party was moving away so he just kissed her cheek back quickly and hurried after the others.

The noblemen and women all mounted and set off at leisurely pace, followed by a troop of men at arms and dog handlers with a pack of mabari. Michael found himself riding next to Bann Odwin.

"It's a lovely day for a hunt, wouldn't you say, your Highness?" Bann Odwin said cheerfully.

"Indeed, my lord" Michael answered politely.

"My daughter is so thrilled to get a chance to meet the famous hero of Ferelden, your Majesty. We all are," the Bann continued.

Michael winced a bit. Mention of the great hero of Ferelden always made him cringe a bit inwardly. He was proud of his accomplishments, but he didn't really like to be greeted as mostly a sword swinging brute.

"Hopefully it'll be a long time before I have to defend Ferelden sword in hand again. I have other duties," he said stiffly.

"Of course, your Highness," Bann Odwin hurriedly agreed. "You are a Teyrn and Monarch. Your noble duties are many indeed."

Michael hid his distaste at the almost fawning flattery. The Bann didn't have to be the sycophant he seemed, he told himself. It wasn't uncommon for even level headed people to get a little overawed by the presence of royalty. He decided to wait and see if there would be an angle to his talk or if it was simply flattery.

"It is good to see that a son of the Cousland line is on the throne to guarantee stability in the land after all the ravages of war," the Bann continued.

Michael nodded inwardly. So that was his game. Just as the seneschal had warned him, some of the land owners resented Queen Anora, both her heritage and her open support for the merchants. Now the Bann was openly flattering him with his noble lineage to see if he took the bait.

"May I remind you that it is our Queen who sits on the throne. I am, like everyone else, her servant." Michael said neutrally.

"Of course, your Highness, a poor choice of words," Bann Odwin hurriedly agreed, and regarded Michael . He couldn't be certain, but it seemed to him that a look of disappointment flashed in the Bann's face.

"Nevertheless it is reassuring that a man of the oldest line in Ferelden sits by her side and guide her," Bann Odwin continued.

Michael shook his head inwardly. The Bann didn't let it go that easy. He couldn't help smiling at the thought of how Anora would have reacted to hearing the description that he "sat by her side and guided her."

Bann Odwin seemed to take his smile as approval and relaxed a bit. He began to describe the places and hamlets they were passing. Michael tried to listen politely, while trying to make his mind up about what he had heard.

It was obvious that the Bann's flattery had been intended to see if he had own designs on Anora's throne. But that didn't have to mean that they were involved in any conspiracy. It could just have been an attempt to discover more about the politics in Denerim see if there was an opportunity to exploit.

"Ywaine my dear," Bann Odwin said suddenly. "I fear I am boring his Highness, why don't you try to entertain him instead?"

Michael forced a smile as the girl took her father's side by his place. This was the second time the Bann had tried to push his daughter and him together. He almost wondered if the Bann hoped to match them up? But it seemed too outrageous to him, that the stiff Bann who always talked about noble traditions actually would try to make his daughter a royal mistress.

Michael had been prepared to dismiss Ywaine as just a pretty face, but as they talked, Michael discovered that she was actually a quite clever young woman. Under other circumstances he would probably enjoyed her company. Now he felt the situation to be rather uncomfortable though, especially with the her father benignly smiling behind them.

* * *

They reached the wood where the hunt was to take place. The woods was crisscrossed with animal path's and many places show the signs of wild boars grubbing for food. The noblemen spread out in small groups accompanied by men at arms, while some of the men at arms and the mabari handlers left to go around the woods to help the local peasants stir up the boars.

Michael tried to find a path off to the side of the main knot of hunters. He didn't particularly like shooting innocent wild animals just for cheap thrills. A charging wild boar, especially the large breed that lived in Gwaren, could conceivably maim or even kill a person, but usually the hunt was just a slaughter.

He was dismayed, but not surprised when Bann Odwin and Ywaine joined him, with a small group of other nobles.

Michael cocked the crossbow and put a bolt in the notch, feeling the eyes of the other nobles on him. He knew he was supposed to be the finest warrior in the land, but slaughtering animals wasn't something he enjoyed

After a long time waiting a rustle was heard in the underbrush ahead of them. Michael raised his crossbow as a large boar charged wildly at them. At least four crossbow bolts was fired simultaneously. Three of them struck their mark and the boar fell to the ground trashing. Two servants ran forward and slit the throat of the dying creature.

It was determined that it was Bann Darin's bolt that had killed the beast, even if two more had hit it. Bann Odwin assured the others that the Prince's bolt had hit too, but had been deflected from it's hide. Michael really couldn't care less, but congratulated the Darin on the shot.


	20. A Hero's Reward

Chapter 20. A Hero's reward

While the other nobles clustered around the beaming Bann Darin to praise his skill, Michael decided to move away. He nodded to one of the soldiers assigned to him as escort and headed away from the others. Everything was just as much of an organized slaughter as he had feared.

"There you are, your Highness," he heard Ywaine's voice behind him.

"My lady, you really should go back to your father," Michael said uncomfortably. "I'm sure he'll worry if you go wandering off like that."

"But how can I be in any danger, with the finest warrior in Ferelden to protect me," she replied smiling.

Michael was about to try and explain to her about the impropriety of the situation as a rustle and sound of thundering hooves was heard from the woods. In the few seconds left to him, Michael realized that his crossbow wasn't cocked and from the looks of it, both the soldier and Ywaine was too startled or afraid to even act as a gigantic boar charged out of the bushes.

Without another thought, Michael tore the spear from the soldier's limp grasp and dived in front of the man. He planted the spear in the ground, grasped it tightly and aimed the point forward. It was a frightening sight to watch the gigantic beast launch itself at him impaling itself on the spear. The sheer force of the impact broke the spear and the huge bulk of the animal crashed into him and rolled right over him, felling the soldier behind him too.

Stunned by the attack, Michael remained lying a moment, before he could try and look around and see what had happened. The boar was dead. The broken shaft of the spear protuded from it's chest. In it's death throes it had knocked the soldier senseless. Ywaine seemed to be in shock and screamed wide eyed.

Michael got up and looked at the dead boar.

"Don't worry my lady, the beast is dead," he said and went to inspect the soldier's wounds. The soldier seemed to have suffered no permanent damage, other than a concussion and a nasty bump in the head from falling to the ground.

He heard a sob behind him, and when he turned around to see how Ywaine was doing, she threw herself around his neck. Michael tried to extricate himself from her embrace telling her everything was all right.

Soon thereafter Bann Odwin and the other group came running, brought by Ywaine's scream.

"Oh pa! Ywaine sobbed, still clinging. The Prince, he saved my life!"

"Is this true?" Bann Odwin said.

"Your daughter was never in any danger," Michael replied uncomfortably. "Although I fear your soldier here have taken a nasty fall and needs looking after."

"No, no. The beast would have killed me. He saved my life," Ywaine insisted hysterically.

Michael pried her arms off him and let her father take care of her. Then he went to instruct the men at arms who tried to wake the unconscious soldier, to go easy and carry him home.

Soon the other nobles surrounded him to praise his skill and begging him to tell how it had happened. If Michael was reluctant to make much of it, Ywaine was more than willing to retell the story over and over.

Michael found the whole scene distasteful. Everyone wanted to congratulate him for saving Ywaine, and listen to her retell her story. None of them seemed to care about the wounded soldier, who, as far Michael was concerned, was the only person's life he had saved . Maybe the girl got a shock from the event, but she had been in no real danger.

The hunt was declared over and everyone returned to Bann Odwin's estate. Ywaine rode beside him and tried to praise him again, but Michael didn't have the patience to be polite and just accepted her words silently.

"Don't overdo it my dear," Bann Odwin said. "You are embarrassing the Prince."

Ywaine grew silent and smiled at him, then she let her horse fall behind his.

"You must forgive my daughter, but I believe you have made quite an impression on her," Bann Odwin said and winked.

* * *

When they returned Michael's heroic intervention immediately became the talk of the whole manor.

Michael saw Anora come out of the manor with a cluster of other noble and servants. He hurried to her side.

"The Prince is the hero of the day," Bann Odwin said "He saved my daughter's life today."

Anora looked at him for a moment and then she smiled at the Bann.

"I'm not surprised," she said. My husband is not an... ordinary man. We all owe him for much."

Michael had to endure a teary eyed thanks from the Bann's wife, a round of cheers and a long clingy hug from Ywaine, before he could excuse himself.

He hurried to Anora's side and with his face grimly determined he took her arm and escorted her away from the guests to dress for dinner, followed by Erlina.

When they finally were alone Anora regarded him coolly.

"So... the great hero of Ferelden is out to rescue fair damsels?" she finally said acridly. "I suppose there was no other handsome knight available to rescue her."

Michael closed his eyes and sighed deeply. He had somehow known Anora would get everything wrong.

"No, he said," almost harshly, "it was just Ywaine, me and a soldier who was unconscious. Are you happy now!"

Anora raised her eye brows and stared at his outburst. Erlina ducked away and excused herself.

Michael sat down on the bed and began to kick off his boots violently. He was so sick of the whole situation.

"You can believe whatever you want Anora," he continued still kicking angrily. "But that woman Ywaine didn't have clue about what was actually happening. I saved the life on some poor soldier who would have been mangled if I hadn't killed that boar. Ywaine was yards away and would never have been hit."

Anora stared at him with nostrils flaring, but then she just sighed. She went to him and to his utter surprise she gently took his head and held it gently to her bosom.

"Of course, dear," she whispered into his hair. "She had no clue what was really going on."

Anora called Erlina back and sat down to let her arrange her hair. She watched her husband getting ready for dinner. He truly wasn't pretending she thought. He doesn't see what that little vixen Ywain was up to. It was hard to believe that someone so clever as he was, could be so blind. Then again, her father Loghain had been blind about many things too.

She rose when they were ready and let him take her hand. If he's too blind to see, then I'm not, she thought and put on her most Queenly smile.

* * *

In the main hall a big banquet had been prepared. As they descended down the stairs, horns were sounded to announce the royal couple's arrival and the gathered nobles greeted them.

Anora steered Michael towards their host who stood next to his daughter.

"Bann Odwin, what a wonderful banquet," Anora said.

"Nothing is to good for the hero of the day," Bann Odwin replied and tugged at Ywaine's hem. Ywaine looked at her father and then turned and smiled happily at Michael.

"Of course," Anora said loudly so the whole hall heard it. "My husband told me all about how he saved the life of one of your soldiers. I do hope he suffered no permanent injuries?"

"Why, you were there dear," Anora said, and turned towards Ywaine, still smiling. "Do you know how the poor man is doing?"

"N..no, your Majesty," Ywaine stammered.

"Pity," Anora said loftily and turned away from her. "Let's be seated shall we."

Michael was seated with Anora on one side and Ywaine on the other. Michael tried to speak as little as possible with Ywaine without being impolite, which turned out to be less of a problem than he had thought. Ywaine didn't speak much only smiled, whenever he looked her way. The few words they traded, Michael could have sworn her eyes kept darting towards Anora nervously.

The banquet was long. One after another various dishes where served. Jugglers and a minstrel entertained them while servants cleared dishes and served new. Eventually Michael rose and asked a servant for directions to the privy.

When he walked down the long dimly lit corridor back to the main hall he heard a voice from one of the side rooms.

"Your Highness, please!" It was Ywaine who waved at him.

"Maker's breath, what are you doing Ywaine?" Michael said horrified.

"Please. I must apologize to you. You must think I'm such a goose," she whispered.

Michael sighed. He felt almost sorry for the girl, the way Anora had dressed her down.

"There's nothing to forgive Ywaine," he said. "Maybe you were in shock, but you really were in no danger."

"I just... I just was so scared," Ywaine said lips trembling. "I'm sorry I made a fool of myself."

"There you are my dear," Michael heard Anora behind him. "I thought you had gotten lost here."

Anora took Michael's arm in a firm grip and then she looked at Ywaine with a cold gaze.

"Ywaine, my dear. You are young still so you can be excused, but you must try to learn how to behave at formal occasions. You wouldn't want people to get the wrong impression about you, do you?"

"Y... your Majesty?" Ywaine asked wide eyed.

"Why some unkindly person might falsely think that you were stalking married men if you go on like this," Anora replied with a voice of steel.

"My Queen! I didn't..." Ywaine stammered.

Anora had already turned away from her.

"Come my dear. We mustn't keep our host waiting."

Michael saw a last look of the stricken girl before he left with Anora. Ywaine's fearful countenance had been replaced by a look of raw hatred.

"Thank you," he whispered to Anora.

"Idiot," she murmured back to him.

When they came back into the main hall, the nobles had risen from the table and stood in knots talking to each other, while the minstrel sat in a corner playing on a lute. Bann Alenna sought them out and addressed Anora.

"Then it is settled, your Majesty? You will visit my humble estate on the morrow?" she said.

"Yes, my lady. It will be our pleasure to do so. I much look forward to seeing your rose garden everyone speaks of," Anora replied.

Michael supposed this was something that had been agreed upon, while he was at the hunt. The arrangement suited him fine, He didn't want to remain another day in the same house as Ywaine or her father if he could avoid it.

"As you wish, your Majesty," Bann Odwin said, joining them. "But I beg of you not to steal away both my guests Alenna. Surely the Prince can remain to display his skills tomorrow. We are organizing a melee and everyone is anxious to see you display your skill."

"No!" Michael said, a little more forceful than he had intended. "I do not want to let my wife travel alone. Besides I am very interested in... roses."

For a moment Bann Alenna gave Bann Odwin a strange look, but then Bann Odwin suddenly smiled.

"So be it your Majesty," he said. "We will arrange the melee the day after tomorrow instead."

Bann Alenna, looked quizzically at Bann Odwin, but then she was also all smiles.

"Very good. Now if you'll excuse me I think I must leave you. I must leave ahead of you to prepare my estate to receive such honoured guests," she said. "I am so looking forward to showing your majesty my roses."

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully, and Ywaine was not to be seen anywhere.


	21. Perilious Journey

Chapter 21. Perilous Journey

The next day they got up early to prepare for the journey to Bann Alenna's estate. The left part of their retinue at Bann Odwin's estate as it wasn't a long journey and they didn't want to unduly inconvenience Bann Alenna with a large group of people to feed and house.

Bann Odwin assured them that it would not be a problem to have the rest of their retinue quartered at his estate. He also deigned to join them, citing that he had to supervise the preparations for the upcoming melee.

The day was notably chillier than the previous one. Anora drew a cloak around herself for comfort. Michael rode beside her. His own horse was still back in Gwaren, but Bann Odwin had loaned him a fine stallion from his own stable.

She would have preferred to ride herself too, Anora thought glumly. The small road was bad and the carriage bumped a lot. Unfortunately she could not possibly ride in the dress she wore. At least not without it being a scandal.

After nearly five hours ride, the road started to wind a series of wooded hillocks. Michael was beginning to feel tired from the long ride, when something intruded on his senses. He couldn't place the feeling, but something was wrong.

He held his horse and slowed down to a slow canter. Then he realized what it was that disturbed him. The birds. There were no longer any sound of birds chirping.

Suddenly a creaking sound was heard ahead of them and a tree fell right across the road. Several horses whinnied and Michael turned just in time to see a rain of arrows come flying out of the woods ahead of them.

"Dismount!" Michael shouted and got off his horse. On horseback they where an easy target for the arrows and there was no way they could charge the enemies mounted in the dense underbrush.

Several men at arms and two knights where down, arrows protruding from their bodies. He saw Anora and Erlina stare wide eyed at the carnage ahead of them. Without further thinking he pulled Anora from the carriage down on the ground and then got Erlina beside her.

"Stay down and don't move!" he hissed at them and pulled Vigilance from it's scabbard. Flames lept from the magical blade.

His first instinct was to charge the enemy straight on, but he had no idea how many they were and he had not expected any battle so he didn't wear armor.

He guessed that ambush had only partly succeeded. Most arrows came from the other side of the felled tree. The enemy had probably had intended to wait until they had moved further, maybe even splitting their force with the felled tree.

Michael found Ser Gavren and ran to his side.

"Stay by the carriage and protect the Queen at any cost," he told the big knight. Ser Gavren nodded grimly and hurried over to the carriage.

Michael heard sounds coming from the woods on both sides and realized that the enemy would be upon them any second. He quickly took stock of the situation. Two more knights and half a dozen soldiers were still standing. Most of the horses where either dead or trashing mortally wounded from the arrows. Some of the servants looked wildly around, or just stood there screaming. But a few of them had the presence of mind to try and hide.

Michael had been in enough ambushes to realize that overcoming the shock of the sudden attack was vital if they were to have any chance of surviving.

"To me! For the Queen!" He yelled at the top of his lungs and charged to meet the warriors coming out of the forrests.

His battlecry was enough to galvanize some resolve into the rest of his force and they followed him.

Some of the attackers wavered when they saw Michael come charging at them brandishing his magical flaming blade. That was all he needed to get in among them. Slashing furiously with Vigilance in swift arcs of death he quickly brought three opponents down. The rest broke and fled away from him.

With no enemy in his immediate vicinity, he turned to see what was happening around him.

More enemies came charging from the other side of the trail. The guards fought bravely, but where outnumbered. Michael prepared to rush to their side, when a crossbow bolt hit a tree inches from his face.

Michael ducked down just as another bolt whizzed past him. He waited a few seconds and then raised his head again to see where the shooters where, but was immediately greeted by another bolt.

He cursed the shooters. It would take a lucky shot to hit him as long as he stayed in cover, but while he was in cover he couldn't help the guards in their struggle.

Afraid he looked to see if he catch a glimpse of Anora. All he could see was Ser Gavren standing grimly next to the carriage. Suddenly a shadow moved from behind a tree and a dagger struck Ser Gavren in his back.

That enemy had been no ordinary ruffian he realized and now the shadowy figure moved in to dispatch the wounded knight. And Ser Gavren was all that stood between the enemy and Anora.

Adrenalin pumping, Michael shouted a guttural battle cry and ran, heedless of the crossbow bolts that flew past him, towards the carriage. He reached the carriage just as the assassin brought Ser Gavren down.

Michael had a fraction of a second to note that Anora was alive before he hurled himself at the shadowy enemy.

Michael waved Vigilance in a long flaming arc, but the assassin managed to duck out of reach with almost supernatural agility. Not daring to let the enemy gain the advantage, Michael pressed on the attack with a series of furious slashes.

It was very different from the battlefield he was used to. Battle between two armoured knights with shield was slow, both parties seeking to find an opening while trying to not present any to his opponent. Here without armor and shield everything was different.

Michael was physically bigger than his opponent and with Vigilance he had longer reach, but the assassin seemed to possess an incredible speed. Michael kept swinging to keep his opponent out of reach while hoping he would trip himself as he retreated before one of the other attackers could help him.

Suddenly he heard Anora scream his name behind him, his pulse thundered in his head and he flet something almost feral come over him. His opponent seemed to hesitate and that was all Michael needed. He lunged forward almost toppling skewering the assassin on the blade's point. The assassin froze and Michael tore his sword loose almost slicing the assassin's body in half as he did it.

"Anora!" he shouted and ran back towards the carriage where he had left her.

He saw Anora sit white faced holding Ser Gavren in her lap, two crossbow bolts protruding from the carriage near where she sat.

Michael desperately tried get his bearings on the scene. These men were not just bandits, or maybe some of them where, but the man he had just slain, the assassin who had sneaked up on Ser Gavren had been a Crow, he was sure of it.

He saw a group of enemies clumped together at the edge of the woods carrying two wounded comrades. They kept looking at him in terror. They were just rabble and hardly any concern for him right now, but the crossbow men were still a danger.

With a sinking feeling he realized that only three soldiers and one of the knights where still standing, when he heard a sickening thud of two crossbow bolts finding their mark and felling the last knight.

Michael ran towards the place he thought the bolts had come from, trying to find cover along the way. He hoped he would reach the shooters before they had time to reload.

When he was upon them, one of them still desperately tried to put a bolt in the notch of the reloaded crossbow, while the other one had abandoned his crossbow for a sword. Michael felled one of them with a vicious slash and in one motion brought the sword up, reversed the move and with violent force hack the other opponents head clean off, sending the severed head rolling into a bush, spraying blood.

Michael look around for more enemies, adrenalin still pumping in his veins, but he could see none. The only sound he heard was the groaning of injured and dying men and the hysteric cries from one of of the survivors.

As soon as Michael had convinced himself that they were out of danger, he ran back to Anora, who still sat pale faced, with Ser Gavren's head in her lap. Beside her, Erlina sat slowly rocking back and forth hugging herself.

"Anora, are you hurt?" he said, his voice full of fear.

"No, but I think he is," Anora said with an unnatural calm.

Michael looked at Ser Gavren's white face and the ugly looking shaft of a dagger protruding from the knight's neck.

"He is dead Anora," he said gently, and lifted the dead knight's body away from her.

"Oh!" Anora said, with the same calm in her voice.

Michael realized that Anora was probably in shock, but that she was unhurt. Erlina seemed to have taken it worse though. She kept rocking back and forth hugging her knees.

"Anora, please try and comfort Erlina if you can," he said. "I must see what has happened to the rest of our men."

Michael found three surviving soldiers that where fit for duty and three more injured or hurt. He also found three more servants either uninjured or with only slight injuries. All horses where either dead or had so crippling injuries that they had to be put out their misery.

As soon as he and the soldiers had arranged all the dead in a heap, he gathered the survivors around Anora who still held Erlina who now was hysterically crying.

"What's the situation Michael?" Anora said. Michael noted with relief that taking care of Erlina had given Anora something to do and got her out of her own shock.

"We have been ambushed by someone who tried to assassinate you," Michael said bluntly. He didn't have time to hide anything from Anora.

"Assassinate me, Are you sure?"

Michael nodded grimly.

"This was meant to look like bandits, but real bandits hardly ever attack a retinue as big as ours, and some of them where definitely Crows, not bandits.

"Crows? Antivan Crows?" Anora asked.

"Yes, professional assassins. The one who stabbed Ser Gavren and almost reached you was definitely a Crow, and I am fairly sure the two crossbow men where Crows too.

"Then there may be more of them," Anora said. "We have to get away from here."

"I agree," Michael nodded. "Some of them fled and if they can get reinforcements, we cannot stay here. We won't survive another attack like this."

"What about the dead and the wounded?" Anora asked.

"We can't afford time to deal with the dead," Michael replied. We'll try and move the wounded away from the road, but then we have no option, but to leave them."

"Leave them?" one of the servants said.

"Right now we only have one duty and that is to get the Queen to safety as fast as possible, and that means back to Bann Odwin's estate."

"Wouldn't it be faster to continue to Bann Alenna instead?" Anora asked.

"Probably, Michael agreed, but I'm not willing to take that risk. Someone just tried to assassinate you and we have no soldiers whose loyalty we can be sure of, except in Gwaren and Bann Odwin's estate.

"Do you suspect Bann Alenna to be part of this. That's preposterous!" Anora said indignantly.

"Right now I'm not prepared to trust anyone, including Bann Alenna or Bann Odwin, but we have a whole troop of royal knights quartered in Bann Odwin's estate so I doubt he dares to do anything even if he is involved.


	22. In the Wilderness

Chapter 22. In the Wilderness

Michael directed the soldiers to round up some weapons and amour from the dead. He picked a simple chainmail hauberk for himself and took one of the assassin's crossbows. Michael then stripped the small supple chain shirt from the leader and handed it to Anora.

Anora looked at him for a moment, then she put the chain shirt on wordlessly.

"Good, now take this, " Michael said and handed her a stout quarterstaff one of the attacker had been armed with.

"I don't need this," Anora said angrily. "I can use a Sword"

"I know that perfectly well, Anora, but I want you to carry this instead."

"Why?" Anora asked tersely.

"Fine," Michael said sighing and took the staff himself and handed Anora a sword.

"Now, try to hit me," Michael instructed Anora.

"Have you lost your mind?"

"Just hit me with the sword, Anora," Michael said and held staff in front of him.

Anora gripped the sword in both hands and approached Michael, but he held the staff like a spear in front of him, jabbing at her. Anora swung angrily at him, but couldn't reach him. Anora clenched her teeth and tried to move around him, but Michael kept circling too, jabbing with the staff. Then he put the staff down.

"You can kill a man with staff if you crack his skull," Michael sad, "but if you use it like a spear you will keep him away from you. It won't kill him but it will buy you time."

"Time for what?"

"For me to see what's going on and kill him," Michael replied calmly.

"You are the queen Anora, all that matters is keeping you alive. I don't want you to kill anyone. I want you to survive. Do you understand?"

Anora looked as if she was going to protest, but then she took the quarterstaff and left haughtily.

Michael directed the unwounded men and women to carry the wounded to a small gully, with a little brook running between two hillocks out of sight from the road. He told one of the soldiers who had sprained his foot, but was otherwise uninjured that he was in charge. He also told one of the servants, an elderly man, to remain with the wounded.

"Don't worry," he said. "As soon as the Queen is safe I'll send soldiers to bring you home. We don't have any food so it will be harsh, but there is water in brook and we leave most of the health poultices here. "

The wounded men nodded.

"You are good men and you made me proud today," Michael said smiling. "I'm not going to forget you."

"Maker bless you and the Queen, your Highness," the soldier with the sprained ankle said.

"Right, let's go," Michael said to the others.

They set off through the woods. Michael didn't dare let them use the road, in case more attackers came that way.

When they had walked for four hours, Michael called a halt and had everyone take off their shoes. As he suspected, Erlina and one more of the servants had developed blisters. He helped them put on some poultice showed them how to bind their feet to avoid the worst discomfort. They drank some water and then he made them continue.

They marched mostly in silence through the woods. Anora grimly held on to her staff, even if Michael offered to help her carry it.

When the sun began to set, Michael called a halt and the others slumped to the ground exhausted.

"Should we begin to make a fire, your highness?" one of the soldiers called.

"No, fires can be seen from miles away at night."

"It'll be cold tonight, if we don't get a fire, your Highness."

"I know," Michael said grimly. "One of you gets some water from the creek, the rest of you get some food. It's late summer, so it's bound to be lots of berries to eat. I am going to find some pine trees."

"Pine trees?" a soldier asked with raised eye brow.

"So we won't freeze."

They gathered berries and wolfed them down for almost an hour. When they got back Michael had built two small shelters. They shelters were only two feet high , but deep enough to be able to creep in and sleep in. They were clad both on the ground and roof with pine branches.

"A mattress of pine twigs will hold warmth. It won't be comfortable but we won't freeze," Michael explained.

Anora sat down next to him and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"You saved our lives today, Michael. We would have died without you," she said softly.

"You are what's important, Anora. You are the Queen."

"I don't feel very queenly now," Anora said. "I just want to curl up in a corner and cry."

"It's all right to feel like that. You've been through a lot today."

"You've been through the same and you don't fall apart," she said snorting.

"This is what I'm trained to do, Anora," he said and handed her a water skin.

Anora nodded.

"I just feel so useless. You can handle everything and I just sit here and watch clueless"

"You want to say something, but you're afraid that you'll sound like some petulant child?" Michael filled in. "I know that feeling."

"You? You're like some invincible god of war. Whatever can make you feel like that?" she asked.

"You can, in court," Michael replied and looked down.

Anora sat still for a time.

"Am I really that bad?" she asked then, in a hurt tone.

"No, not really. You are the Queen and it's your duty to rule Ferelden, just as it's my duty to help you, but sometimes... well, I can do more if you let me.

"I know you can," she said slowly.

"We should try and get some sleep now, Buttercup," Michael said, after a moments awkward silence.

Anora boxed him.

"It's not fair! No one will tell me any embarrassing things about you," she said and pouted.

Michael smiled at her, but then his face grew wistful and he looked away.

"Pup," Michael said in a thick voice. "Dad always used to call me pup, before he..."

Anora nodded and took his hand. Then she kissed him softly on his cheek.

"Let's go to sleep, dear," she whispered.

Michael had initially intended to take first watch, but he felt he couldn't keep up anymore. He was exhausted and felt his eyelids grow heavier and heavier. He set the three soldiers to take turns guarding, then he spread his cloak as bed sheet and her cloak as blanket. They crawled into the shelter to rest together, with Erlina huddling on Anora's other side.

Anora snuggled close to him.

"Michael," she whispered to him.

"Mhmm," Michael murmured, drifting to sleep.

"Good night, pup," she whispered and pressed herself to him for warmth and safety.

Her last coherent thought before falling asleep was the crazy idea that part of her liked this. He was rescuing her and not some other pretty girl and that felt good.

* * *

The next morning Michael woke up stiff and aching. He had grown soft sleeping in the royal bed chamber, he thought ruefully.

He arduously opened his eyes and saw Anora still curled up next to him, her head on his arm. He tried to carefully extricate himself from her without waking her, but she groaned and opened her eyes when he gently lifted her head.

"Good morning, dear," he murmured.

"Maker's mercy, but my body aches everywhere," she moaned.

They both crawled out from their shelter. Anora shuddered in the cold morning and Michael pulled her cloak around her. Around them, the others start to stir too.

"What do we do now?" Anora asked him.

Michael had been thinking a lot about that day yesterday.

"I'm not willing to trust any other soldiers than our own royal knights yet, but I think we may risk moving closer to the road now. If we stay close to the road we'll be bound to find some small hamlet where we can get horses. If this is the result of some local conspiracy I highly doubt local villagers are in on it."

"What then," Anora wondered.

"We ride to the outskirts of Bann Odwin's Estate and then one of you will locate our own troops and ask them to meet us at once, without alerting anyone else." Michael said and pointing at the soldiers."

"Do you really think we are in any danger from the Bann?" Anora asked him.

"I have no idea, but I'm not taking any chances. You are the Queen of Ferelden, and someone damned well tried to have you murdered. I will not risk anything until you are safe," Michael replied grimly.

"As you wish," Anora said submissively.

They got up stiffly. Most of them where aching from the cold and uncomfortable night, made worse by blisters and tired muscles. Michael almost had to start barking orders to get them moving.

They soon found the road again. Michael had not permitted them to stray too far from it yesterday. They marched a slower than yesterday, but after three hours they reached a small hamlet and approached it.

The little knot of people who stood by the side of the road stared at them as they neared. Michael took the lead and approached the group.

"Good folk, we have been waylaid by bandits and need horses immediately," Michael said in a commanding voice.

The villagers stared mutely at them, but no one moved.

"I have gold to pay with," Michael said.

This brought more response. A large heavyset man approached them.

"I have four horses, but you need to leave their full worth in gold before I'm let you borrow them," the man said.

Michael took his purse and counted up the gold. Then he added some more coins.

"That's for food and for giving shelter to our servants while we ride to get help."

The man nodded and barked an order that sent two boys running to fetch the horses.

"Can we eat now? I'm famished," Anora whispered.

Michael shook his head.

"This seems good people, but I don't like to stay longer than necessary. We'll eat on the road."

They got their horses as well as packs of food and set off.

"Who were they?" The heavyset man who had given them their horses asked one of the servants.

"The Queen and Prince of Ferelden," a servant said.

"You fool!" the man replied. "That can't be them. I heard the Prince is at least seven feet tall and spits fire."


	23. Honor of the Queen

Chapter 23. Honor of the Queen

When they reached the outskirts of Bann Odwin's estate, Michael repeated his orders and sent one of the soldiers to return with their guards.

They waited tensely at the edge of the woods.

"Don't worry Anora, it'll soon be over," Michael said encouragingly.

Anora held his hand, and looked glumly at herself. Her hair was tousled, her dress hemline was in tatters and her face smudged.

"I look frightful," she mumbled.

"Don't worry Anora, you may look like a ragamuffin, but you are still the most beautiful woman in the kingdom."

"Liar," she said, and smiled weakly.

"Look, your Majesty!" One of the remaining guards pointed at a troop of riders.

The first rider bore the royal arms of Ferelden. Michael let out his breath. They had made it. Anora was safe.

Soon more riders with Bann Odwin and other nobles at the head also arrived. A thousand questions rained over them. Michael had to repeat a brief explanation a few times to the astounded nobles and knights, before they could get going. Michael also gave careful instructions for where they could find the servants and the wounded.

Anora rode with her head held high and no one who saw her could for a moment doubt that she truly was the Queen, despite her ragged appearance.

* * *

When they arrived at the estate, Bann Odwin's wife ordered a huge wooden tub and hot water be brought to Michael's and Anora's chamber.

When Anora entered their chamber two servants where filling the tub with hot water, while others were laying out new clothes for them. One of them hurried to Anora to help her undress. She turned to look at Michael imploringly. He nodded and firmly ordered all the servants out of the chamber.

When they were alone he went to Anora. Her face was pale and her hands were shaking.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked softly.

"No," Anora whispered, and her lip trembled.

He led her to the bed and sat her down beside him. She sobbed and then she broke down crying. Michael held her, rocking her in his lap.

"It's all right. You're safe Anora, " he whispered.

"I felt the same the first time it happened to me," he said gently. "Whatever you think, you're never quite prepared to be that close to someone who is going to kill you in cold blood."

"You have no idea how useless I was after Duncan saved me from Highever," he continued. "It took two days for him to make me get over it."

Eventually Anora stopped crying and hugged him.

"Better?" he asked her. She nodded, smiling weakly.

He helped her get out of her dress and into the hot water. As she begin to soap herself he took a brush and began to gently comb her hair.

* * *

When the two emerged from their chamber a large meal had been gathered in the hall. Anora was walked straight and proud. Spontaneous cheering broke out as she gracefully descended the stairs and smiled to those gathered below, with Michael one step behind her.

"Thank you, my Lords and Ladies," Anora said to them. "Your concern for my wellbeing is most touching."

As soon as Anora was seated, she began to exchange pleasantries with the nobles around her. She smiled and nodded, never for a moment betraying if she wondered if any of them had been responsible for the attempt on her life.

"Look at the Queen! It's hard to believe she had just escaped such a harrowing experience," Bann Darien whispered to his wife.

"They say she is made of ice," his wife whispered back.

Immediately after the meal, Queen Anora told Bann Odwin that she must return at once to Gwaren. The Bann made a few attempts to make Prince Michael stay and participate in the grand melee planned the day after, but Michael resolutely refused. His duty under the circumstances, he claimed, was to be at his wife's side.

* * *

It was late night when they returned to Gwaren. They were met at the entrance to the Teyrn's estate by the seneschal Aiold and several members of the royal household. Word had already reached Gwaren of the attack against the Queen and her retinue. Anora smiled and assured them all that everything was fine.

On Michael's insistence, Anora had made no mention of Crows or assassination. He had convinced her that it was best to pretend they only believed it was roving bandits until they had some proof of who was behind it. They would have to bring the seneschal Aiold in on the truth. He might know who, if any, in Gwaren might be responsible for the attack.

Late that night Michael and Queen Anora brought the seneschal into their private quarters in the estate and Michael began to recount the truth.

"Who is responsible for this atrocity?" Aiold asked, wide eyed, when Michael had finished.

"We don't know," Michael admitted, "but I can make a few guesses."

"So can I, your Highness" Aiold admitted. "But how would you prove it?"

"Let me first tell you a few names and see if any is on your list of guesses too," Michael said to the Seneschal.

"I... I don't know, your Highness, your Majesty, I don't want to be held responsible for pure guesswork," Aiold said obviously uncomfortable.

"Then tell me this if I said that Bann Odwin and Bann Alenna acted suspiciously before the attack. Would that surprise you greatly?"

The Seneschal bit his lip, but then he finally shook his head.

"No, your Highness, it wouldn't," he said, "but I don't see how we can do anything without a shred of evidence."

"Oh, we can do plenty, if we want," Michael answered savagely.

He turned to Anora who up until then had let him do all the talking.

"Anora," Michael said, "as far as I see it we have two options here. Either we try to follow what leads we have and try to find proof of who is responsible. My personal estimate is that our chances of success are small."

"Or?" Anora said in a low voice.

"Or we conclude that it is possible that Bann Odwin and a score of his friends could be responsible, if nothing else because this crime happened on their land, and lock them up in a dungeon until one of them starts to talk."

"Your Highness," Aiold said nervously. "Bann Odwin is one of the most respected landowners here in Gwaren. There is no evidence..."

"No," Michael said. "There is not enough evidence, but someone has tried to attempt to murder the Queen of Ferelden and the Bann has been pretty clear about his view on Anora."

"Your Majesty, Aiold said to Anora. "I will follow any order you give, but I must tell you that decide to throw several of Gwaren's most prominent nobles in prison with no clear proof, there will be repercussions, maybe even unrest."

Michael regarded Aiold frowning. The seneschal Varren in Amaranthine had been a bit timid too. He suspected that Aiold, like Varren both were caretakers rather than leaders and had grown accustomed to compromises, as they lacked real authority.

Anora looked at Michael a long time silently, then her eyes narrowed.

"Throw Bann Odwin and his associates in the dungeon and hide the key until we either know who is responsible or are satisfied that they are all innocent."

Then an expression of pain passed her face and she looked directly at Michael.

"Any unrest will be dealt with by... the Teyrn," she said.

"As you wish, my Queen," Michael said understanding.

"No" Anora said seriously. "Not as I wish, but this is how it must be. I will return to Denerim and you will remain here until this is settled."

Michael nodded.

"I'll go make the preparations at once, your Majesty." Aiold said and left.

* * *

Michael sighed deeply and went to stand before her chair.

"I'll miss you Anora," he said softly and stroked her hair.

"I'll miss you too," she replied and took his palm and held it to her cheek.

Michael bent down and kissed her forehead. He felt exhausted and a little numbed.

"Let's get some rest," he said.

They undressed in silence and then they lay together under the blanket, holding hands and looking at the ceiling above them.

"I would understand you know," she said, suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"You may have to stay here for months if there is unrest. I would understand if you... bedded someone else. Someone... younger than me. All I ask is that you don't do it foolishly."

Michael got up on his elbow and looked her in the eyes.

"Listen to me. I love you Buttercup, and there is no one else in the world that I want," he said.

"Really?"

"I swear!"

"Then prove it, pup!" She giggled. "Prove that you want me."

She pulled his face down for a long kiss, twining her tongue around his. Despite his fatigue, desire immediately rose in him.

Later they lay naked together, their need slaked but their bodies still entangled.

"I love you too, pup" she murmured smiling.


	24. Homecoming

Chapter 24. Homecoming

Michael rode ahead of the small troop of royal knights on the road to Denerim. He restlessly scanned the surroundings for landmarks that would tell him how close they were to the city.

He tried to relax and forced himself not to increase the speed as they rode across the crest of a gentle hill behind it saw the first sight of Denerim. He had been away from the capital for four months now and longed to return.

It had been a lengthy task to bring order to Gwaren after the attempt to assassinate Queen Anora. There had been a general uproar among the nobles, when he had personally led the troops that had arrested Bann Odwin and his confidants, with only scant proof and justification, just as the Seneschal Aiold had predicted.

At first it had only been murmured discontent. Many had been confused and afraid that the arrests would spread. Then, as Michael had made it clear that there would be no further imprisonments, Bann Odwin's supporters had grown bolder and begun to demand that the arrested nobles should be released.

Nor was the protests limited to the nobility. Unrest was bad for business and several guilds had petitioned him to restore confidence in law and due procedure. By which they meant a compromise that would allow commerce to flow as before.

No one dared openly defy him. He was both Teyrn and Prince of Ferelden, but there were some seemingly spontaneous outbreaks of peasant unrest that Michael had needed to use force to put down. It was possible that things could have ugly if he hadn't finally obtained proof of the conspirator's guilt.

In the end it was Ywaine who had provided him with the evidence he needed. She had sent word requesting a private meeting with him. Michael had been dubious at first, considering her earlier ploys, but when he had visited her in her cell she had seemed terrified and earnest in her desire to strike a deal.

Ywaine had promised evidence to condemn her father, if he promised to let her go free. Then, when he had nodded acceptance, she told him that it was her father who had told her to try and seduce him. He had clearly hinted that if she managed to this, she might end up with a crown as reward, if something happened to the Queen.

Michael had his doubts about her sincerity when she assured him that she had not understood the full meaning of the treason they had planned, but he was satisfied that she had only been a pawn. she looked so miserable and broken that he decided to honor the agreement and free her, despite his misgivings about her role in the conspiracy.

With Ywaine's sworn testimony, most of the open protests died down. Her father had remained sullenly defiant to the end and refused to say a word as he was condemned to death and his family stripped of their lands and title. Bann Alenna and two others were simply never let out of the dungeon, while the rest were released.

Michael had later learned that Ywaine had been remarkably quick to recover after her family's fall from grace. Even if she was no longer the daughter of a Bann, she had turned up in the finer circles in Gwaren and there set her sight on Master Theron of the merchant's guild and one of the wealthiest men in the city. Within a month of her release the two were married. It was a spectacular wedding, but Michael politely excused himself from appearing.

This had not been the end of the unrest though. Everyone expressed horror and distaste at the attempt to assassinate the Queen, but where Michael once had been greeted as the Hero of Ferelden, he was now met with caution. It had taken a lot of work and determination to win them all over and turn surly opposition to obedience, but after four months of work Gwaren was loyal again. At least loyal enough so that he dared let the seneschal Aiold take over.

Then seneschal was now Bann Aiold, since Michael had given most of Bann Odwin's land to him as reward for his loyalty and hard work. It had also suited Michael that Aiold had a title to bolster his prestige. He would need it to rule Gwaren in his absence.

Now he was finally returning to Denerim and to Anora though. He wondered what kind of reception he would get when he returned. Despite the trust, and even love, they had found with each other, their marriage had not been an easy one. Both he and Anora were used to give commands, even if he had always tried to respect that she was the Queen and he only her consort.

He had told Anora she would miss him and it was true. He had missed her terribly. Even if it was much easier to rule as Teyrn without her looking over his shoulder, he missed her sharp intellect and caustic humor.

He missed their intimate moments too. With their growing feelings for each other that part of their marriage had vastly improved too. He missed her body, whose delicious curves he adored, even though she inexplicably seemed worried that he would find her too old to be attractive to him. He missed having her near him at night, feeling her curled up next to him or just listening to her breathing beside him.

He wondered how Anora had felt about being away from him. She seemed to genuinely care for him too. But he knew she was often exasperated by all his questions and arguments. Had she been relieved to be left to rule Ferelden alone for a while?

She had sent him a few letters, and while they had contained some words of endearment, they had mostly been recounts of what had happened in Denerim. Anora, it seems had decided to try and increase trade by commissioning new class of ocean going ships based on the Antivan caravels. A lot of her letter where about the length she had had to go to find a good shipwright who could build the ships, because she wanted them built in Ferelden.

Michael called on one of the knights to ride ahead of them at full gallop to inform the palace that they were coming soon. He tried to tell himself he was stupid to worry. He had won her love, and he wasn't going to let it go, even if she had time to get used to be without him.

The guards snapped to attention as they rode through the gate into Denerim. A few commoners raised a ragged cheer at the sight of his banner, but most people just stared and pointed at them as they continued past the market district towards the royal palace.

He took a deep breath as they neared the palace. He had told himself not to paint himself a too rosy picture of his return. Last time he had been away this long was during the darkspawn invasion of Amaranthine. Then he had returned as a hero, with Anora waiting to receive him gratefully for saving the kingdom.

More guards came to attention as he entered the palace courtyard and got off his horse. He handed the reins to one of the guards and looked around the courtyard. It was empty save for a two gardeners and a some soldiers. Impatiently he crossed the courtyard towards the main gate into the royal palace to see if he could find out where Anora was. He wanted to tell her in person that he was back, even if she was busy.

Suddenly he heard motion from inside the palace. The next second he saw Anora hurry out of past the door in the palace gate.

"Michael?" Anora said almost out of breath. Then she saw him and smiled happily.

"You're back! They just told me. I..."

Michael hurried the last steps up the marble steps to Anora and crushed her in his embrace.

"Gently," Anora said lowly, but her hold on him was almost as hard as his.

"Maker help me, but I missed you so, Anora," he whispered in her ear.

"I missed you too Michael. I missed you so much."

Michael let go of Anora and took a step back to look at her. He searched her face for signs of hesitation, but he could only see joy and relief in her glittering blue eyes. Then he leaned down and kissed her and everything was just right.

When he let go of Anora she was quite flushed and looked embarrassedly around, as the nearest guard who was doing everything he could to fix his attention elsewhere.

"Are you tired or hungry husband," she said trying to sound formal again as she straightened her dress.

Michael realized that he was indeed wolfishly hungry. Anora ordered the servants to bring food and drink to him and his companions. Tables and benches were brought and soon an impromptu homecoming feast had been organized.

* * *

It didn't take long for Michael and Anora to begin questioning each other about everything that had happened while they had been apart. Michael tried to answer Anora's questions about things in Gwaren to the best of his ability, but he had a hard time producing the exact numbers she kept asking about. He tried to explain things in his own way, but she wouldn't let it go and before long they had both begun to raise their voices.

They glared at each other for a moment, then Michael ruefully looked down. He reached out and gently squeezed her hand, then he felt her squeeze his back.

"It's good to be home," he said after an awkward silence, and raised his eyes to look at her again.

"It's good to have you back husband," she replied and giggled, not letting go of his hand.

He raised his goblet with mulled wine and ate some more meat in silence, but then they started to talk again and before long they were lost in arguments.

After several hours of eating and discussions, Michael had finally filled his belly and relaxed contentedly. He emptied his goblet, savoring the last drops of wine and turned to look at Anora again. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the flickering light from the big fire in the fireplace, but it seemed to be a soft glow around her face as she smiled back at him.

He leaned closer towards her.

"I'm tired of this now, dear. Is there any chance we can be alone soon?" he whispered in her ear.

"Oh Maker, I hope so," she answered him huskily, pressing her body against his.

It didn't take long for them to excuse themselves and hurry away to their private quarters. There, at last, did he truly find that she had longed for him every bit as much as he had longed for her.

Later, as they lay together naked, curled up against each other, Michael thought contentedly that even if he would be Teyrn of Gwaren for the rest of his life, it would never be his home. Neither was Highever really home anymore. Home was here, with her.


	25. Reacquaintance

Chapter 25. Reacquaintance

The next morning Michael woke up late, feeling wonderful. He felt Anora's head resting on his chest and he burrowed his face in her tousled hair to savor her smell.

"Maker's mercy, I had forgot how warm you are," she murmured. "You're like a furnace."

"Do we even have to get out of bed today," Michael said contentedly.

"Yes we do," Anora replied with a smile. "We need to be in Court later and I'd rather we discussed things before.

"Can't we discuss things here then?" Michael complained.

"No, too many distractions."

"Distractions?"

"Yes," Anora murmured and let her hand that had rested on his belly, wander downwards.

"Oh, that!"

She giggled as he pushed her head away from his arm so he could turn and get on top of her.

Afterwards he laid happily beside Anora, almost dozing, with her back pressed against him. He couldn't resist cupping his hand around her delicious breast. She wiggled herself closer still to him. As their naked bodies touched each other in new places, he felt his desire rise again. His fingers on her breast became insistent.

"I'm no Warden, you know," she tried to complain. "I'll get sore if you keep it up like this."

Despite her attempts to protest, she moved herself to allow him access to other, even more intimate parts of her body. Soon they were locked in embrace again, until they were both spent and lay beside each other, panting.

Anora smiled to herself. It seemed that Michael's appetite for carnal pleasure was always greater than hers. Maybe it was that Grey Warden physique he jokingly told her about, but she really had longed for this during his long absence in Gwaren.

* * *

When they finally got up and dressed, Michael wanted to head straight to the palace kitchen. Breakfast had always been informal at Highever and he had picked up the habit again while alone in Gwaren. He didn't have the patience for a proper meal and preferred to have his breakfast in the kitchen and pick up some gossip from the servants.

He knew Anora was careful about keeping protocol though, so now he had to wait while the servants prepared a table in the dining hall. This was one of the things he disliked most about being Prince. That such a minor thing as breakfast would turn into a state occasion.

Finally everything was ready and they could sit down and eat. Anora watched him wolf down huge chunks of bread and ham, nibbling on a chicken wing.

"How can you eat so much?" Anora asked incredulously. "I know you spar a lot, but still…"

"I always had a hearty appetite, but being a Grey Warden made it worse. I'm told it's one of the side effects, I can't help it."

"It's not fair that you can eat so much and it doesn't show on you," she said jealously.

"Maybe I should tell Weisshaupt. Tell them to use it as a recruitment slogan."

Michael pretended to wince as she playfully slapped him.

"Finnish that now, you glutton," Anora said finally. "We have work to do."

The servants hurried to remove the remains of their breakfast as they left the dining hall and went back to their private quarters.

* * *

Michael followed Anora to her study. Anora had a large packet of correspondence from Orlais on her desk. She took the first letters and began to explain the contents to him. It was the usual mixture if gossip, politics and trade discussions the ambassador would send home. Michael asked questions and soon they were deep into a debate about their political stance towards Orlais and the Chantry.

"I never thought I'd say this, but I really missed this." Anora suddenly said and smiled at him.

"How can anyone miss Orlesian politics?" Michael asked frowning.

"No, not that you fool. I missed discussing things with you. I know I used to hate your incessant questioning, but I missed it when you weren't here."

Michael smiled and drew ger into his arms.

"I missed that part too, Buttercup," he sad.

Anora pouted. She still cringed inwardly whenever Michael used that horrible old nickname. She cursed her nanny for letting him discover it. But then he bent down and kissed the frown away from her face. Her arms slipped around him and the letters she'd been holding fell to the floor.

"Stop it please. We have work to do," she finally said, trying to catch her breath.

Michael smiled and reluctantly let her go. Then they both bent down to pick up the letters on the floor.

He saw a smaller pink envelope among the official documents and tried to pick it up, but Anora quickly snatched it before he could reach it.

"What was that?" he asked wondering.

Anora held the letter tightly. She looked tense and for a moment she didn't move irresolute. Then she swallowed and handed him the letter.

"It's for you," she said in a small voice. "It's from Orlais, from Leliana."

Michael got up slowly and frowned as he opened the letter. He immediately recognized Leliana's girlish hand writing. He had to smile as he read her description of what had happened since they had parted.

"What is she saying?" Anora asked, looking out the window, with her back towards him.

"She says she is in Val Royaux, with Zevran," Michael replied. "Here, do you want to read it yourself?"

Michael held the letter towards her. Anora glanced at it, but after a moment's hesitation she shook her head. She returned to stare out the window.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mention the letter right away," she said finally.

"Is this still about me and Leliana then?" Michael sighed.

"No, I don't doubt your feelings Michael. It's just…" her voice trailed off.

"I never had many friends Michael. Even as a child I kept mostly to myself. I remember one day when I was eight years old. My father had made one of his rare visits home and he had brought a gift for me. It was an enchanted glass ball.

It was just a simple enchanted bauble. It glowed with the colours of the rainbow, when sunlight touched it. But when I took it outside in the sun to watch, it seemed to hold all the wonders of magic to me.

"Father had brought many of his Bann's and knights to Gwaren for some important meeting. Some of them had brought their families and their children were outside playing in the courtyard. They saw me and they wanted to look at it."

"At first I was pleased with the attention, but then they wanted to hold it themselves. I refused, but they were crowding me and some of the older children got rowdy."

"I screamed at them, commanding them to go away, but they didn't listen. So I turned and ran back into the manor. I was scared and didn't want them to break my gift. I hid it in my cupboard and hardly ever brought it out to play with again. I didn't dare."

Anora turned to look at him.

"That's how I feel about you too, Michael," she said softly. "I love you and I trust you, but in the back of my head, I'm still scared that someone will come and break my gift. I... I can't help it."

Michael tenderly put his arms around her and she let her cheek rest against his shoulder.

"I don't break that easily Anora. Heroes of Ferelden are made of sterner stuff than that."

"I know," Anora said, smiling despite herself.

"My feelings for you won't change either. You are my wife and I love you."

Her embrace tightened around him.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Shall we get back to work then, dear?" Michael said smiling. "There are still a dozen Orlesian plots or two to uncover."

"You are right, husband," she said and brushed her lips against his. "Duty calls."

They returned to the pack of letters and discussions about Orlais. Time passed quickly as they were talking and they almost forgot about their other duties.

It was Anora who finally looked at the sun's position outside and decided it was time to discuss the upcoming Court, before they had to go there.

Anora started to brief him on the petitions that were awaiting them. The biggest issue was the grain deliveries to victims of the Blight. Last year had been a harsh year in Ferelden. The Blight had laid waste to much farmland and the crown had been forced to buy grain from Orlais to ensure that famine was kept to a minimum.

This year the harvest should be enough to fill all bellies, but not everywhere. In some areas the local lords had been prudent to save enough grain to be able to sow a healthy crop, but in other areas they had been more complacent and trusted in continued support in the future.

Anora had been adamant in refusing to spend what little gold the Crown still had after the Blight and the civil war, on bailing out those who had themselves to blame, but that had not been met without resistance.

Michael listened to her explanation nodding. Privately he would have prepared to make some small concessions as it was likely that innocent peasants would suffer for the mistakes of their lords, but he could tell that Anora had set her mind on this. She abhorred waste and inefficiency.

When Anora had finished her brief he waited a moment, before speaking himself.

"I have a suggestion I want you to hear. Traditionally we haven't enforced many rules against carrying arms here in Denerim. People in Ferelden value their independence, but I think that we can't just ignore the fact that someone tried to kill you in Gwaren. I want to enforce the old laws that no one except the royal guard are allowed to carry arms inside the Palace, when the monarch is there."

Anora frowned thoughtfully.

"It may upset some of the nobles, and I'm not sure that would stop a determined assassin," she said.

"At least it will be harder for disgruntled noblemen to attack you physically," Michael replied. He thought about Bann Esmerelle in Amaranthine, who had been allowed to carry her arms right into the heart of Vigil's Keep.

Anora regarded him carefully, and then nodded.

"I don't really see the need Michael, but matters of military and security is your domain. If you think it's for the best, I'm not going to oppose it."

Michael acknowledged her acceptance with a slight nod. It had always been understood between them that he would have military matters as his domain, but this question had many political implications. He was glad that she trusted him in this so readily.

Soon after a servant knocked on the door and announced that the Banns where waiting outside the throne room.

"Shall we, your Majesty?" Michael said and held out his hand towards her.

"Indeed, your Highness," Anora answered and smiling put her hand in his.

Together they walked down the corridor, towards the throne room.


	26. Political Considerations

Chapter 26. Political Considerations

When they reached the throne room, they walked up to the throne past the respectfully bowing nobles. Michael waited for Anora to be seated before taking his place at her side.

He looked out across the hall. It was the usual mixture of friendly, hopeful and suspicious faces. He told himself to do his best to not get into any unnecessary arguments with Anora on the first day back in court, even if he had gotten used to run his own smaller court in Gwaren as he wanted.

Things proceeded more or less as they had anticipated when he and Anora had discussed it previously. It was obvious that main event would be the petition from several banns for more aid for grain from the Crown.

Bann Loren had apparently been elected to speak for the petitioners. Michael guessed it was because Loren's family was well known to him. He just hoped they weren't going to try and consciously goad him into siding with them against Anora.

"Your Majesty, your Highness," Bann Loren began, "in your wisdom and mercy you have used the Crown's money to feed those parts of the country worst afflicted by the Blight. The wounds are deep and some parts of the country still need help. We beseech you, your Majesty, to continue your wise policy and support those parts of the country still recovering from the Blight."

Anora frowned.

"You speak well, my Lord, but as far as I know, many of those areas worst hit by the Blight are now productive again and provide a good harvest," she replied. "It seems to me that it's only those areas where the aid was wasted and not handled with care that need help now. Please explain what good comes out of letting those who have grown complacent continue to remain under the misconception that the Crown has infinite resources to pay with."

"My Queen, it's not as simple as that. There are many local factors involved," Bann Loren started to say, but Anora cut him off sharply.

"The only local difference I'm aware of is the relative competence of those who have been trusted to run their fiefs."

There was an audible gasp among some of the nobles in the room. Anora was obviously not in a mood to relent. An awkward silence followed until Bann Teagan cleared his throat to speak.

"You Majesty, with all due respect, whatever the cause might have been, the fact remains that some of your subjects will likely starve if aid is not provided."

Michael respected Bann Teagan. Of all those who now supported the petition, Teagan was probably the only one with selfless motives. Due to his resolute actions, the harvests in Redcliffe and Rainesfere would be good, but he still sympathized with those less fortunate or able. The others were all speaking for themselves.

"Bann Teagan," Michael interjected. "Your concern does you credit, but the truth is that far too many of those areas still suffering from the effects of the Blight do so because the lords that should have looked after the best interest of the commoners have been too intent on supporting their own... extravagancies."

Bann Teagan frowned. Michael knew that Teagan agreed with him on this, even if he still didn't want to let people suffer famine because of their liege lords' failures. Michael wasn't sure he did either, but he wasn't going to oppose Anora.

He turned to look at Anora questioning, and she nodded imperceptibly to him.

"Nevertheless," Teagan replied, "it's the commoners that will suffer if the Crown doesn't provide aid."

"You Majesty," Bann Loren interrupted, "why complain about how the banns' spent their meager resources when the Crown spends huge amounts of gold on ships right here in Denerim. Ships larger than anyone has built in Ferelden before. That gold could be spent on feeding the people!"

"You think we are building those ships to satisfy some idle vanity?" Anora said in a chill tone. "Even if I have explained their purpose here in this court?"

Michael cursed inwardly. Bann Loren was a fool for provoking the Anora like that. The man simply didn't understand what Anora hoped to accomplish.

"Ferelden must build ships to break the hold Orlais has on our trade with the outside world," Anora said as if explaining something to a child.

"Large ships can travel farther and discover new markets. They are the key to our future prosperity. I believe I made that point before. This may not matter to you, but as queen I cannot shirk my duties and hope someone else pays for my mistakes."

It was rare for Anora to be visibly angry in court. She was far too well versed in the game of intrigue and wordplay to lose her composure. Everyone heard the barb in her voice, but only Michael could see the frustration behind it. He knew her well enough to understand how impatient she could be inwardly when she thought others could not see what was obvious to her.

"Clearly we won't jeopardize future prosperity needlessly," Michael said. "The Crown cannot, at this time, support such measures as you proposed. I suggest we move the discussion to the possibility of a temporary tax to pay for it."

Predictably, the other nobles present objected to new taxation and before long the court devolved into arguments between different groups of nobles.

"Nicely done!" Anora whispered approvingly to him. "Now they'll squabble among themselves for ages."

"Actually, I think it wouldn't be a bad idea if they could agree on a new tax to pay for it," Michael whispered back. "If there's famine and unrest things will just get worse, and the tax would be so unpopular that there's no way they could keep it any longer than necessary."

Anora frowned briefly, but then shrugged and nodded.

"I don't want us to waste time trying to bring about a new unpopular tax, but if the banns can agree on it, and you really think it's a good way to keep the peace, I won't object to it" she said.

Michael nodded. He wouldn't spend much time on this either, but with a little luck, his brother Fergus had the influence to work out a deal among the nobles. He would let Fergus know as soon as possible.

For a moment, Michael considered talking to Bann Teagan about it. He was looking decidedly unhappy as several other nobles disputed the rights and wrongs about a temporary tax. Michael decided not to, though. Teagan would feel obliged to start acting immediately and he had enough troubles as it was. According to the latest gossip in Denerim, Teagan was out of favor with his brother, Arl Eamon, over a pretty red haired elf mage who had captured Teagan's heart. Michael had always liked Teagan and wished him all the happiness he could get. He didn't want to drag him more into the politics of Denerim than necessary.

Eventually Anora resumed command of the scene.

"My lords and ladies, I'm not dismissing the idea of a temporary tax to support the burden of sending aid to those who still have not overcome the ravages of the Blight, but it would have to be a fair tax that is levied against those who can afford it. That means you, the nobility of Ferelden, not the commoners."

"I suggest that those of you who support the idea of such a tax get together and present a proposal for how this could be done fairly."

Then she turned towards Michael.

"Now my husband has something to announce," she said and nodded to him.

Michael rose as all the noble's faces turned towards him.

"My lords and ladies, whether we like it or not, we live in dangerous times. A conspiracy to kill me was uncovered in Amaranthine earlier and only months ago there was an attempt on our queen's life. In light of these heinous events, I'm going to call for enforcement the old law that forbids anyone to carry arms inside the Royal Palace when the queen is there."

There was a murmur of discontent and a few outcries as Michael spoke.

"What is this? Are Ferelden nobles no longer trusted by the queen?" someone said.

"Twice in recent times someone has tried to assassinate either me or the queen. It's not a question of trust, but of security."

"Your Majesty, surely you can't condone this over reaction," another bann said.

"This is a matter of security," Anora said carefully. "I rely on my husband in all such matters, as you should all well know."

"My only concern is her Majesty's safety. I will not compromise on this," Michael said sternly.

Anora smiled and touched his hand and then looked at the gathered nobles.

"Unless there are no other petitions, I believe this concludes the day's affairs."

There was continued murmur, but no one said anything. One by one the gathered nobles left the throne room.

"I think that went rather well," Anora said as she rose, "all things considered."

"I think so, too," Michael said and offered Anora his hand.

"I suppose you're going to set your brother to arrange some sort of serious agreement to get money for those miserable banns who wasted our previous aid."

"You know me too well, dear," Michael replied, smiling ruefully.

"Of course I do, husband."

"I suppose it's not a bad idea to let the banns fund it themselves," Anora continued. "But next time, talk to me first about it."

"It was really just something that occurred to me there," Michael answered. "I'm sorry if I didn't warn you, but there was no time."

They continued talking about the day's events. Anora laughed helplessly at Michael's imitation of Bann Loren's pompous tone.

It really was good to be home, Michael thought.

* * *

It had been a good day, Anora thought to herself as she went through her usual evening rituals. Erlina combed out her hair as she studied herself in the mirror. She self consciously adjusted her nightgown to better accentuate her bosom.

"Will there be anything else, your Majesty?" Erlina asked, when she had finished with her hair.

"No, Erlina. That will be all," Anora answered.

Erlina bowed and retreated from the queen's dressing room.

Anora remained seated, looking into the mirror. Then she opened a little secret compartment in her dressing table and brought forth a tiny vial. She looked hesitantly at the vial, then opened it and quickly swallowed the contents. She grimaced as the vile taste stung her mouth.

"Are you coming, dear?" Michael called from the bed chamber.

"Just a moment," Anora called back.

She quickly replaced the empty vial in the compartment and closed it. Then she ran her fingers through her hair and rose.

Anora entered the bed chamber and giggled as Michael sneaked up behind her to grab her around the waist.

"No more excuses, you're coming to bed right now."

Laughing, Anora let herself be dragged down on their bed.


	27. Dockside

Chapter 27. Dockside

The following day, Anora took Michael down to the docks in Denerim to see the new ships being built there. They left the palace after breakfast with a retinue of royal guards. Normally the Queen would travel in a carriage, but today Anora agreed to walk with him. Not that there was anything casual about the visit. Anora would turn the whole thing into a minor procession with guards, knights, banners and servants walking through the streets of Denerim.

As they neared the docks area, Michael begun to notice changes. The docks in Denerim seemed to have grown and were more vibrant than he remembered. Then he saw in the distance the new expanded yard with large half-built ship hulls and dozens of men hurrying to and fro with tools and materials.

Some of the ships seemed to be only wooden skeletons, but two of them looked almost done from the outside, except that no masts were yet in place.

Michael tried to compare the hulls with those he'd seen in Gwaren from Antiva and the Nevarr. He had tried to spend time in the docks in Gwaren to learn about ships and trading, and been surprised when he'd learned just how much money long-range trade could bring. It was always a gamble though. Each ship and its cargo represented a huge investment. A shipwreck could ruin anyone but the richest investor. That's why Anora wanted the Crown leading the way.

He stared at the two hulls, appreciating the clean lines. To his untrained eye they looked as good as any foreign ship he had seen in Gwaren or elsewhere.

Anora looked at him as he regarded the hulls.

"They won't be named properly until they're completed," she said, "but I decided on names for them anyway. The builders need to know which they're talking about anyway."

"Oh?" Michael said and turned to look at her.

"This," Anora said and pointed at the left hull, "is the Gareth."

Michael nodded. Gareth had been her grandfather's name. The outlaw turned knight, who once had given his life to save King Maric from the Orlesians.

"And this," Anora continued, pointing at the right hull, taking his hand in hers, "is the Eleanor."

Michael felt a little lump in his throat as he squeezed her hand. The thought of his mother always made him remember the pain of his loss again. He felt a wave of gratitude for his wife, naming the ship after her.

"That's... a good name, dear." he said softly.

"I was hoping you would approve," she said smiling.

"I do. I think it's wonderful."

He felt a sudden desire to embrace her right there, but he knew how much Anora disapproved of sudden outbursts of affection in public. She had always been careful about appearances in front of others. So Michael limited himself to a quick kiss on her cheek.

"Thank you, Anora," he whispered in her ear as he squeezed her hand again.

"You're welcome, Michael," she whispered back, smiling at him.

He returned to looking at the hull of the Eleanor. Suddenly he saw them in his mind, completed and rigged, crewed by men and women sailing it towards foreign ports. Maybe this ship really would be part of something that would herald a new future for all Ferelden.

* * *

As they walked back to the palace, they discussed various problems and solutions with creating a new merchant fleet.

"The key is finding the right captains," Anora said. "It takes an experienced captain who knows distant waters to guide ships as far as we hope to trade."

"I think I know a captain with lots of experience who might jump at the chance to command a brand new merchant ship."

"Oh?" Anora arched an eye brow and looked quizzically at him.

"Her name is Isabella, and I think she's as much a pirate as a trader. She seemed to be an excellent ship's captain, though, and considering the dangers at sea, it wouldn't hurt to have someone experienced with fighting at sea, too."

Anora nodded.

"That makes sense, and this woman is here in Denerim?"

Michael cleared his throat and avoided looking at her as he answered.

"Yes, she resides at the Pearl, or did last time I met her. Which was before I met you."

"I see..." Anora said stiffly and regarded him. "I keep forgetting about your... illustrious past. I take it there's quite a story behind the fact that you're on such good terms with a female pirate captain who lives in a brothel. Or is this not something I want to know more about?"

"It's not like that. It's... well... no, you really don't want to know about it," Michael replied red-faced.

"Very well, _husband_," Anora said, and he winced at the little extra emphasis on the last word.

Michael noticed that she had increased her pace as they walked.

"I trust that you do not object to me being present when you interview this remarkable woman then?"

"Not at all," Michael replied. "In fact, I think it would be an excellent idea."

Anora snorted derisively.

* * *

Three days later, Michael and Anora received Captain Isabella at the royal palace. While they waited for Isabella to arrive in their study, sorting correspondence, Michael wondered if mentioning Isabella to Anora had been a good idea.

He was somewhat doubtful of Isabella's suitability as captain on one of the new royal merchantmen, but he knew her for a fearless and brazen woman. He could still recall the wild evening he had spent in her cabin while enticing her to teach him fencing techniques. The possibility that Isabella would drop a hint of that to Anora made him uneasy. It had all happened before he had even met Anora, but he wasn't sure how Anora would react to being reminded of his rather adventurous past.

When a servant announced Isabella's arrival they rose and left their study to meet Isabella in one of the reception rooms adjoining the big throne room, used for more informal occasions.

When they entered the room Isabella was already there waiting for them. She had been lazily studying one of the tapestries on the wall, depicting stories of Ferelden's past.

Anora frowned as she watched Isabella. She did not seem to be the obvious beauty, as she had first feared. Isabella looked plain at first glance, but she radiated an aggressive confidence Anora found unsettling.

"Your Majesties," Isabella said with an exaggerated bow. "To what do I owe the honor of your summons?"

"Captain Isabella," Michael said, clearing his throat. "You are a captain of some renown, dare I say even notoriety."

Isabella acknowledged his words with a slight bow.

"Ferelden is in need of a bold and adventurous Captain as yourself," Michael continued.

"Oh! Now you have piqued my interest," Isabella said with a playful simle. "Do please continue, your Highness."

"We, the Queen and myself, were wondering if you would consider signing on as captain of one of the Crown's merchantmen."

"So, if I understand correctly, you are offering me the prestigious position of captain to one of the beauties being built in the docks?"

"Yes, if you're interested"

"Why that would be just too much of an... _attractive_ offer to pass up."

Anora had avoided eye contact with Isabella. She cringed at the sultry tone in Isabella's voice as she spoke with Michael. She could only imagine what might have happened between them

Anora suddenly found herself taken aback at how this woman had affected her. Isabella's openly seductive manners, made her feel old and prim.

She frowned and turned to return Isabella's gaze only to be shocked at what she saw.

Isabella was standing provocatively, hand on her hip, staring directly at her, slowly moving her gaze, shamelessly studying Anora's body, with a lustful eye. Anora felt herself flushed with confusion and embarrassment.

Michael, who was familiar with Isabella's appetites, had to check himself from accidentally smiling at Anora's obvious distress. There weren't many people who could unsettle Anora, even for a short moment.

Just as he suspected, Anora's lapse in concentration was brief. She collected herself and was once again calm and regal.

"Very good, Captain. We'll speak further of this when the ships are closer to completion."

Isabella nodded, assenting.

"I look forward to it," she said and sent one last sultry look, before bowing elegantly and retreating out of the room.

When they were alone again, Anora looked oddly at her husband.

"Quite a character, this Isabella," she offered in a measured voice.

"Indeed," Michael agreed.

Anora decided that whatever else she thought of this Isabella, the idea of her being captain on ship that would embark on a long journey that would take it far, far away from Denerim, was an appealing one.


	28. Return to Highever

Chapter 28. Return to Highever

Three months later, the two new caravels "Gareth" and "Eleanor" were finished, with masts erected and rigging completed. Crews had been recruited and cargo found. Anora had personally overseen the selection of merchandise to be carried and given instructions to the trade representatives in charge on the ships.

Before either ship set out for their long voyages, however, Michael and Anora were going to travel on the Eleanor to Highever for her maiden voyage. Michael's brother Fergus had surprised Michael and most of the other nobles when he had announced that he was going to marry Bann Sighard's daughter Leah.

The wedding had been held in such haste that Michael and Anora hadn't even had time to be present. The reason for the haste was soon apparent when Fergus sent him a short letter informing him that Leah had given birth to a son.

Now Michael stood on the deck of Eleanor, looking at the shoreline and hoping to see a first glimpse of Highever castle soon. Anora stood by his side. She'd been seasick at first, but had apparently fought off the worst effects by sheer willpower.

"Do you think we'll be there soon?" Anora asked him.

"Yes, it won't be long now. See that high cliff over there? That's Lookout Point. Once we round Lookout Point, Highever castle should be in sight."

Anora gazed at the cliff top and sighed in relief. He suspected that she would be happy to see this voyage over.

"It'll be good to see Fergus again. I just hope everything is well with his wife and the baby."

Michael nodded. Births in the family were always a blessing, but also an occasion for worry. Far too many women lost their children or died themselves in childbirth. Leah would have had the best healers available, but it was always difficult.

"Leah will be fine. She was always strong, even as a kid."

Privately, Michael worried about his brother. Bann Sighard had always been a welcome guest at Highever castle. He remembered his daughter Leah as a skinny dark haired tomboy, unremarkable in appearance, but with an aptitude for mischief.

Fergus had always been the gentle one of them, and he had always been so happy with his family. He had not only lost his parents in the massacre of Highever, but his wife and son, too. If anyone deserved happiness, it was Fergus. He would hate to see his brother trapped in a loveless marriage because of Leah's sudden pregnancy.

Then he looked at Anora and smiled to himself. His own marriage had been out of pure convenience and political considerations, and yet he had learned to love Anora with all his heart. Hopefully, Fergus would be as lucky.

He realized that it was three years to the day since the battle of Ostagar today. He had come so far since that terrible day, but it hadn't been without a cost. Sometimes he wondered if he really deserved all he had received in life.

Anora caught his glimpse and arched an eye brow.

"What are you thinking about, husband?" she asked him.

That was one of those things that never failed to send a warm glow through him. At first, the way she always called him "_husband_" had felt cold, but now the way she said it seemed to be something close and intimate to him.

"I was just thinking about what a lucky man I am, Anora."

She took his hand and returned to looking at the shore line.

"There it is!" Michael announced shortly after and pointed. "There's Highever Castle!"

* * *

"Welcome home, little brother!" Fergus greeted them as they passed through the gate into the castle.

Michael hurried to meet him and hugged his brother fiercely.

"Thank you, Fergus. It's so good to be back."

Fergus let him go, cleared his throat and knelt to Queen Anora, who was waiting behind Michael with a bemused smile.

"Forgive my manners, your Majesty, and welcome to Highever Castle."

"Rise, Teyrn Cousland, and think nothing of it," Anora replied. "You're part of the family. And speaking of family, you must introduce me to your lovely wife."

Fergus rose and motioned to Leah who waited behind him to come forward. Fergus took Leah's hand as she curtseyed to the Queen.

"Your Majesty, it's such an honor to welcome you here."

Michael took one long look at Fergus and all his fears for his brother disappeared. It was obvious from the looks he gave his wife that Fergus was in love with Leah. Michel could hardly fault him for his feelings. The little tomboy Leah had been had grown up to be a startlingly attractive young woman.

Together they entered the main reception hall in the Castle. It felt almost eerie to be back like this. Everything looked exactly the way he remembered it. For a moment, Michael almost expected to see his father Bryce standing there and welcoming him.

Inside the hall another pair awaited them. It was Bann Teagan, arm-in-arm with a pretty, red-headed elf that Michael assumed was Teagan's lover Neria.

"Bann Teagan, what a pleasure," Michael said and crossed the hall to meet them.

"The pleasure is all mine, your Highness, your Majesty" Teagan replied with an elegant bow.

"Now you must introduce me to the lovely woman ay your side, Teagan."

"Of course, your Highness. This is my _friend_, Neria. Neria, this is her Majesty, Queen Anora and Prince Michael."

Michael could detect a hint of sadness in Teagan's voice as he called Neria his friend. They obviously loved each other, but Neria was both an elf and a mage, so a marriage between the two was simply unthinkable. He wholeheartedly approved of Fergus's decision to let her come to Highever, despite their irregular relationship. An honorable man like Teagan deserved any happiness he could find.

"Are we to assume that it is just a happy coincidence to find you here Bann Teagan," Anora asked as she joined them, "or has this something to do with finalizing the funding to the Blight victims?"

"Nothing escapes your Majesty," Fergus admitted, smiling ruefully. "The truth is that I hoped to get a chance to discuss something along those lines with Michael and Teagan."

"I'm sure my husband will only partake in any such discussions as an interested observer," Anora said carefully. "The Crown will not officially involve itself in these matters."

"Of course, your Majesty," Michael agreed immediately.

Anora nodded and left the three men alone. Fergus brought Michael up to date on their efforts. Some of the noblemen not hit as badly by the Blight, or had spent previous aid more wisely, had refused to partake in any new aid deal. But Arl Eamon had agreed, and between them, Fergus and Eamon represented two of the most prosperous regions in Ferelden, so it looked like enough areas would join to bring substantial help to those in need. Michael could not officially promise any help, but he had let it be known, through his seneschal, that the Teyrn of Gwaren would be most pleased if the individual banns of the teyrnir agreed to join.

After some more discussion, their conversation turned to more small talk.

Michael looked at Fergus and smiled.

"You did well, Brother. Leah seems like a wonderful woman."

"I can't believe how lucky I've been to found someone like her after... everything that happened," Fergus said. "But you haven't done so badly yourself, _your Highness_."

Michael waved his hand dismissingly.

"Don't deny it, Michael," Fergus continued. "Even out here we hear enough gossip from Denerim. Everyone agrees that the Queen has never looked happier than after she married you. You have to be doing something right."

"They really say that?" Michael said.

"Of course they do," Anora murmured behind him, "and it's absolutely true." She reached out and touched his hand gently.

Michael hadn't even noticed her sneaking up behind him. Michael offered his arm to her, as Fergus did the same to Leah and Teagan to Neria. Then Fergus led them all on a tour of the castle for Anora's benefit.

When they reached the private family quarters of the castle, Leah showed them the room set aside for Michael and Anora

Then Michael turned to Fergus. "So, when will you let us see the baby, Brother."

Fergus looked smiling at Leah, and she nodded and left. She soon returned carrying a little mewling bundle wrapped in a soft cloth in the Cousland colors, with a chamber maid in tow.

"Here he is. Say hello to Uncle Michael," Leah said and held her index finger at the baby. A tiny little hand reached out to touch her.

"What are you going to call him?" Michael wondered.

"Well... if you approve, we want to call him Bryce," Fergus replied.

Michael nodded slowly in approval. For a moment he almost felt a tear forming in the corner of his eye. Then he cleared his throat.

"I think that's an excellent idea, Fergus."

Michael leaned in and watched the tiny face in Leah's arms. It felt different than when he had first seen Oren. Fergus had been just as proud then as now, but Michael had still been a rowdy teenager in those days. Now he was married, and even if the Warden taint may prevent him from ever becoming a father himself, just knowing that it could happen made him look at the baby differently.

"Can I hold him?" he asked.

Leah smiled and held the baby to him.

Carefully, almost reverently, he held the baby as if it was made of the finest glass. For a moment he tried to imagine how it would be to hold his own son like that.

"Hey there, Bryce," he whispered.

"Isn't he cute, dear," he said, turning towards Anora, only to realize that she was no longer in the room.

"Where's the Queen?" he asked.

Fergus and Leah looked around the hall, bewildered.

"The Queen retired to her chamber," one of the servants said. "She said she was tired."

Michael frowned. Even if Anora was tired from the journey, it wasn't like her to disappear like this without telling him, he thought worriedly.

"I'd better go and see her," he said and carefully handed the baby back to Leah.

When he reached the chamber Fergus had set aside for them, he saw Erlina tiptoe out of the room.

"How is the Queen, Erlina?" he asked her.

Erlina chewed her lip nervously.

"I... I think it's best you see her yourself, your Highness," she said.


	29. Shameful Secrets

Chapter 29. Shameful Secrets

When Michael entered their private chamber, he saw Anora lying on the bed, curled up with her face away from him.

"Are you all right, dear?" Michael asked her carefully.

"Yes," Anora sniffled. "I'm just tired."

Michael entered the room and sat down on the bed beside her.

"You're not all right. You've been crying."

"No, I haven't. Just leave me alone."

He lay down beside her and began to gently stroke her side.

"Listen to me, Anora. Some women can lie about things like that, but your face puffs up and you croak when you've been crying. So, stop lying and tell me what it is instead."

For a moment Anora didn't move or say anything. Then she slowly begun to talk.

"I... I saw you holding Fergus baby."

Michael sighed deeply and put an arm around her.

"Is this because you won't get pregnant yourself. I told It's not too late for us, even with the taint in me. It's not like we're not trying."

"No, Michael. It's... it's not what you think. I have never wanted any children."

"I have always been scared of getting pregnant. I hate the idea of becoming some fat bloated cow. I hate being ugly and helpless and I'm terrified of giving birth. I don't even like babies. They just smell and drool."

"I saw servant women die in childbirth, or grow old prematurely from the strain of bearing so many children. I remember a cook who just swelled up with a fever and died. The healer said that somehow the pregnancy had gone wrong and there had been poison in her womb."

Michael held her tightly as he listened to Anora's tale.

"Maybe... maybe my fear of getting pregnant is what drove Cailan into seeing other women. I don't know. All I know is that when we got married I was afraid I'd ruin things again."

"At first it was easy. Our marriage was just business. I figured that if I made sure we only slept with each other on days that should be safe, and with your taint, it would be fine."

Slowly she turned to look at him. She clasped his hand and put it on her tear streaked cheek, and continued.

"I never counted on the fact that I would grow to love you so much, or that I would come enjoy our... intimacy like I do. I didn't know what to do. So I did a terrible thing, Michael."

"What do you mean?" Michael asked her, frowning.

"I secretly begun to take a potion that ensures that a woman won't get pregnant. I thought it was for the best. I didn't want to be afraid of sleeping with you. I would be a terrible mother anyway, and you know it."

"It wasn't until I saw the look on your face, when you were holding Fergus baby, that I realized what I had been depriving you of."

"I'm sorry Michael," she said, blinking away a tear.

Michael's mind was reeling from Anora's confession. They had never spoken openly about children. He had come to terms with the possibility that the taint in him would prevent him from ever fathering children. But somehow he had assumed that they didn't just bed each other for the pleasure. He had thought they both did it in the hope of eventually raising children and heirs too.

He felt disapointed with her. He hadn't realized just how much he was looking forward to having children of his own, until Anora told him that she had prevented it. He looked at her face and met her eyes for a brief moment, before she looked down, chewing her lip.

" Please... please, don't hate me," she whispered.

Her pleading voice made him pause. He saw the fear and distress in her. Then he thought of his own fear and the shameful secret he had born for so long without telling her. How could he possibly judge her?

"I don't hate you, Buttercup," he murmured and drew her closer into a tight embrace.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Michael said and released Anora.

The door opened and Erlina peered in.

"Excuse me your Majesty, is everything all right?" she said.

"Please inform the Teyrn that there is nothing to worry about," Michael replied. The Queen is simply tired after the long journey and needs to rest a bit. I'll remain with her."

Erlina nodded and disappeared, closing the door behind her.

"You are not the only one with a secret you're not proud of, Anora," Michael said and released the embrace, when they were alone again.

"What do you mean?"

"How much do you know about what happened when I killed the Archdemon?"

"Only that it was a spectacular feat of arms. The Grey Wardens from Orlais seemed surprised that you survived it. Apparently many Grey Wardens die in the slaying of an Archdemon."

"No Anora, that's not the whole truth. The Grey Warden who kills an Archdemon _always_ die himself.

Anora looked at him confusedly.

"I... I don't understand. Didn't you...?"

"I killed the Archdemon and that means that I should be dead, but I... cheated."

"What do you mean? Cheated?"

"It has to do with how an Archdemon is slain. This is a Grey Warden secret, so you must promise to never tell anyone."

Anora nodded.

"When an Archdemon dies, it's body is destroyed, but it's soul moves to another darkspawn and it begins again. The only way to prevent this is if a Grey Warden kills the Archdemon, then the taint in the Warden will draw in the Archdemon's soul and both will be... annihilated."

Anora's eyebrows rose

"Yes," Michael nodded. "Annihilated. His soul utterly destroyed."

"But how..?"

"Do you remember Morrigan, the witch? She told me there was a old magic that would enable us to kill the Archdemon, without any Warden dying in the process."

"What magic?"

"Blood magic, or at least I think it was. She would conceive a child with a Grey Warden and the unborn child would carry part of the taint. So the Archdemon's soul would seek out the child instead."

"A child, but how..?" Anora asked. Then she froze and her mouth formed an little "oh", as understanding dawned.

"Yes Anora, I slept with her," Michael said looking pained. "I bedded the witch after you and I had promised to marry each other. I did it because I was scared of dying with my soul destroyed."

"And the baby? Was it... annihilated?"

"I don't know. All I know is that Morrigan claimed the ritual would somehow clean the Archdemon's soul and allow it to live in the baby. An Old God soul untouched by the taint. I don't know if that is true or what it could mean, but she swore to me that I would never see or hear from her, or the baby, ever again."

"Now you know my shameful secret too, Anora," he finished.

"We both knew what was expected of us. I was expected to die a hero to save Ferelden and you were expected to happily bear a string of children. Both of us refused our duties, because we were scared and chose to cheat our destiny."

Anora nodded slowly. Michael slipped his arms around her again.

"Maybe neither of us is the person the story tellers expect us to be," he whispered. "But I still love you Anora, and I'll abide with whatever decision you make. If you really don't want children, then I'll accept that. We'll find another way to secure an heir."

"You'd really do that for me?" she whispered.

Anora let him hold her like that for a long time, listening to his breath. Then she looked him in the eyes.

"I can't ask that of you, Michael. All this time you have been so patient with me and done so much for me. This time it's my turn to do something for you. I won't touch that potion ever again. I promise. From now on, if I don't get pregnant, it won't be because of anything I have done."

"Are you certain?" Michael asked her.

"Yes, I am."

"You know, it'll probably not happen anyway. The taint makes it very difficult for me to ever have children."

"At least we'll try as often as possible," she giggled.

Anora put a hand around his neck and brushed his lips with her. He wouldn't settle for that though. He kissed her back more fiercely and soon they were clinging to each other, feeling up and down each other. A low moan escaped him as she pulled away from him with gleaming eyes.

"Maybe we should wait at least a little longer before trying this," she murmured. "The others will wonder what we're doing."

"You are the Queen," he said, unlacing the front of her dress. "They'll wait as long as we say they have to."

Laughing Anora submitted to him. When she was undressed and he was poised above her, he was still for a moment. Then she nodded and he slowly closed the space between them.


	30. Shadow from the Past

Chapter 30. Shadow from the Past.

When Michael and Anora finally rejoined the others, a big feast had been prepared in the main hall. As she gracefully descended the stairs, Michael had to smile at himself at how easily Anora slipped into her role as the regal Queen in public.

"I hope you're well, your Majesty," Teagan asked courteously. "A touch of fever perhaps? You look a little warm."

"No, it's nothing, Bann Teagan," Anora said airily, "but thank you for your concern."

Michael saw Neria smile and shake her head. Then she pulled Teagan's head down and whispered something in his ear that made him look acutely embarrassed. Clever girl, Michael thought to himself, and suppressed a guilty smile.

The food served was not overly extravagant, but plentiful and well prepared. Everyone seemed relaxed and in good spirits. Even Anora seemed unusually talkative and happy. There was something irresistibly warm and welcoming about Highever Castle, Michael thought, as if the spirits of Bryce and Eleanor Cousland still resided in the halls.

Once they had finished and risen from the table, Michael excused himself and said he wanted a bit of fresh air. Fergus offered to join him, but Michael politely refused.

"Is something the matter?" Anora asked him.

"No, Buttercup. I just need to be alone for a while. I... I'll tell you about it later."

He kissed her cheek and briskly walked out of the hall. Outside he ordered one of the stable hands to bring him a horse, and then he rode out of the castle towards Lookout Point.

The view from Lookout Point was impressive. A light drizzle and the grey sky stole some of the scenic beauty, but the view of the sea was still majestic. At the very tip of the cliff, a huge pile of wood had been assembled, to be lit and guide ships home, in case of thunderstorms.

He could see a ship far away. He realized it must be the Eleanor, setting off on its long journey. He and Anora would return to Denerim by road.

Below the top, a small path led down a few yards. At first it looked as if the path would simply lead right over the edge of the cliff down to the shore far below, but actually it twisted around along the side of the cliff several yards. At the end of the path he saw a small shrine.

Fergus had told him of a shrine that had appeared at Lookout Point and Michael wanted to see it for himself. Then his heart pounded as he saw a ragged figure kneeling beside the shrine. The figure had a dirty grey cloak and scruffy brown hair. At first, in the approaching darkness, he had almost blended into the scenery.

The man rose and turned to look at him.

"Oh, it's you," he said in a hostile tone. "What are you doing here?"

"I was looking for you actually," Michael replied quietly. "It's three years since Ostagar today and I hoped that maybe you would be here."

"Have you come to gloat then? See what's become of me?" the man answered angrily.

"No, not that. You may not believe me Alistair, but I only ever wished you well," Michael said.

"Then you had a damned funny way of showing it," Alistair snorted.

"I'm sorry for what happened. I really am, but I did what I thought was best."

"Of course you did. You always knew what was best, didn't you? I guess that's why you get along so well with... her."

Michael winced at the anger in Alistair's voice. He had hoped to find Alistair here, but now that he had found him, he wasn't sure what to say. He wanted to try and make him understand, but seeing him like this, he doubted Alistair would. He watched Alistair silently, irresolute, for a while, as the rain dripped down from his hair into his face.

"Alistair, can you forgive me?" he finally asked pleadingly.

"No!" Alistair replied flatly.

For a moment he glared at Michael, but then his shoulders seemed to slump and the anger left him.

"I can't even begin to forgive anyone else until I have learned to forgive myself," he said finally.

Michael nodded. It had always been easier for him to forgive others than himself.

"How do you do it?" Alistair asked after an awkward silence.

"Do what?"

"How do you forgive yourself?"

"I... I haven't," he admitted. "I just... keep myself busy. It's no good dwelling too much on the past."

Alistair nodded involuntarily. He opened his mouth to say something, but shut it again. Then he began to walk.

"I should leave," he said tonelessly and continued past Michael up the path.

Michael watched him go with a heavy heart. Like, him, Alistair had been a Grey Warden during the Blight. They had shared all the horrible dreams and visions. He remembered when Alistair had first explained about Calling. It had seemed such a lonely way to die. He had once hoped that when the day came they would at least face it together.

"Alistair," Michael called after him, as he was about to disappear out of sight.

"Yes?"

"When the time comes for the Calling, will I see you in Orzammar then?"

Alistair stood unmoving for a moment, with his back to him.

"I... I don't know," he finally said and left.

Michael remained alone with his thoughts. He hadn't really expected Alistair to forgive him after everything that had happened. At least he seemed collected and determined. The only rumors he had heard before were that Alistair had buried his disappointment in drinking.

It was strange really. He had everything and Alistair had lost all, and yet he even now he felt the need to dismiss him, to quiet his guilty conscience. The truth is that Alistair had a lot of inner strength. That could have served him well as king, and he did deserve better than what happened. But Michael couldn't change that. And in his heart he knew, that if he had a chance to go back, he would make the same choice again.

He watched the shrine. It was just a small marble slab placed upon four rocks. He looked at the words hewn into the marble, and then he fell to his knees.

"Wherever you are, Duncan, please look after Alistair. He still needs you," he mumbled to himself.

Then Michael rose and walked back up the path. He took one last look at the horizon and far away he saw the sails of the Eleanor as the ship sailed away towards a distant shore.

Maybe the true glory of Ferelden wasn't a prince or a Grey Warden, but the brave men and women who crewed that wooden vessel in search of new prosperity.

"Michael?" he heard a call behind him.

He turned to see Anora come towards him, her face looking worriedly at him from under the hood of the heavy cloak that protected her from the rain. He heaved a sigh and felt a rush of happiness and relief at seeing her.

"Are you all right?" she asked when she saw him.

" I am now, Buttercup," he said smiling.

"Who was that man who left before?" she wondered.

"I'll tell you when we're back, dear," he replied and took her hand

Together, they went back to the soldiers who had accompanied her, and now held their horses, while the rain continued to fall.


	31. A Golden Age

Chapter 31. A Golden Age

Michael looked out of the window from his study in the Royal Palace. Much had happened in Denerim.

It had been four years now, since the first two caravels, Gareth and Eleanor, had begun their long voyages. Both had returned with enough gold and merchandise to more than justify the journey. There had been more voyages and more ships since. Not all successful, but enough were to more than justify their creation.

This in turn had sparked an interest from noblemen and merchants in building even more ships. Some of the richest, like Arl Eamon of Redcliffe, or his own brother Fergus, financed this on their own. Others joined forces to share the cost and profit from the trading.

In time, the docks in Denerim could only construct so many ships. Through his planning, however, new shipyards had been built in Gwaren, where timber and skilled wood workers were plentiful. Now the huge forests of Gwaren supplied the shipyards with timber.

Things were not all good though. The increased number of trees felled in Gwaren had led to complaints from the Dalish bordering the Brecilian Forest. So far it was only a minor irritation, but Michael was wise enough to realize that this could only grow worse with time. He planned to set up rules for logging near the Dalish territory, but he was still concerned. Rules were often ignored when there was money to be made.

Michael had discovered that with the changes begun in the country's trade, so had his priorities as Prince. He spent more and more time planning for war at sea. Orlais had not been happy to see its control over trade with Ferelden be challenged by a growing merchant navy.

There was no talk of open war, but Orlesian ships armed for war had twice attacked Fereldan merchant ships, claiming they were pirates. Deploying soldiers and crossbowmen onboard soon became a necessity.

Michael had also called the dwarf Dworkin from Amaranthine to help develop a weapon that could be deployed on ships. A few attempts at copying Qunari bombards had ended in catastrophic explosions, but Dworkin had managed to set up a small production of a sort of pyrotechnic fire thrower that could launch a combustible concoction at enemy ships. Dworkin called it "Dragon's Breath," but the seamen called it "Dwarven Fire."

It was an unreliable weapon, almost as likely to fire on the owner's ship as the enemies, unless carefully handled. One ship, however, beset by two Orlesian ships, managed to set fire to one of them and frighten off the other, using the weapon.

In rage and exasperation, Empress Celene had called Anora a "Pirate Queen." When news of this reached Denerim, Anora had been so delighted that she had immediately ordered the upcoming ball to have a pirate theme. Anora herself was dressed as a pirate captain, even if she politely refused to dance with Captain Isabella, who had been invited for the occasion.

All in all, they had been very good years, Michael thought. The only cloud on their sky was that Anora still had not become pregnant. They tried not to speak about it, but it was difficult for him to hide his disappointment. She claimed to be disappointed, too, but he wondered if the bigger part of her wasn't just relieved.

Last month he'd raised the possibility of naming one of Fergus' children as their heir. Fergus and Leah had got a daughter too now. It would solve the problem of succession, but Michael didn't like it. They would have to adopt Fergus' son Bryce to make it formal, and he was loath to take one of Fergus's children like that, even if he knew Fergus would agree if it was for the good of the country.

Anora had listened to him when he proposed the idea to her, but had not responded. She had just looked away. He almost wished he hadn't brought it up. She had been distant and fidgety ever since. Even if there was still warmth in their lovemaking, it wasn't what it had been before.

He looked at the sun. Anora had said she would join him in his study as soon as her morning rituals were done, but it had been more than an hour now. He put down the letter he was writing and left his study to see what was wrong.

When he reached their bed chamber he met Erlina hurrying out of the room holding a chamber pot that smelled of vomit. Anora lay down on the bed breathing slowly. She looked queasy.

"Anora?" he asked her. "What's the matter?"

She tried to wave him off.

"I'm fine, Michael. I promise."

He went to her and sat down on the bed beside her, with a worried look on his face.

She looked at him for a long moment nervously, and then pulled his head down and whispered into his ear. His eyes opened wide and he stared at her incredulously.

"Are you sure?" he said disbelieving.

"I think so. At least Erlina assures me that throwing up in the morning is part of it."

Michael looked at her wordlessly, trying to take in her words, but he could not form a single coherent thought. He could only feel the wild joy that seized him.

"Michael, I'm scared," she whispered.

He nodded and then laid down beside her and put his hand on her belly.

"I love you, Buttercup" he whispered to her. "I love you so much."

* * *

"That will be all then, my lords and ladies," Anora said stiffly, and watched the banns and other noblemen leave the court room.

When the last one had left, she groaned and heaved herself up from the throne. A guard hastened to offer his hand, but she angrily waved him off. She hated her bloated belly and the invader that had made her a prison in her own flesh, but she would not allow anyone to support her as if she was some kind of cripple. At least not if her husband wasn't here, and Michael was absent from court today. He had been busy handing out commissions to new officers this day.

For weeks the court physician had tried to make her slow down and leave court to her husband, but she had refused. Nothing, not even the impending birth of her heir would keep her from doing her work. Keeping her routines was all that kept her sane through this ordeal.

When she finally had gotten up, she tried to straighten herself. Her back ached with the extra weight it had to carry and her feet hurt.

Anora took a deep breath and then began to walk back to her private quarters for a rest.

Then she stopped unsteadily as she felt a strange warmth running down her leg. She clenched her teeth and steadied herself.

"Erlina!" she yelled shrilly.

Erlina who had been waiting outside the throne room, hurried inside to Anora.

"Your Majesty?" she called.

"Erlina," Anora hissed, eyes full of fear. "Call the court physician right now. I've either peed on myself or it's begun now."

* * *

The first Michael heard as he neared the room set aside for the occasion, was a bloodcurdling scream from Anora.

"Andraste's ass, where is my husband?" Anora yelled as her face contorted in pain.

"There's no need, your Majesty," the red headed healer Petra replied. "Men are useless in these situations. Let the guards find his Highness and then he can wait outside."

Anora clenched her teeth and glared at the woman.

"I am the Queen of Ferelden," she panted, "and I will have your head chopped off if you try to tell me what to do again. Now bring me my husband right now, or someone will die. Is that understood?"

The Petra huffed, but said nothing more.

Nervously Michael peered into the room. Anora lay on a bed surrounded by Petra, midwives, towels, blankets and clean linens.

Anora raised her head and stared wildly at him.

"There you are," she said breathing heavily. "This was your idea. If this kills me, I'll have everyone know it's your fault. I swear you'll hang for this"

Michael swallowed and turned to one of the midwives.

"Is she in any danger?" he whispered fearfully.

"Everything is proceeding well, your Highness. It won't be long now" Petra replied.

Michael gathered himself and moved to sit down on a stool set next to the bed.

Then Anora's face contorted as a paroxysm shook her body and she screamed again. Michael had seen men and women scream as surgeons cut off arms and legs after battles, but never experienced anything like the helplessness he felt now.

"Maker curse you, Michael," Anora panted. "You lied to me. You said the taint wouldn't touch the baby. I swear there's a damned darkspawn clawing its way out of me."

"Don't listen to her, your Highness, this is going very well," a midwife said reassuringly.

Michael took her hand in his and felt her squeeze it so hard that it hurt as her body shook with one more paroxysm and a midwife told her to breath.

"Idiot, I am breathing! Can't you tell?" Anora yelled.

"It'll be all right, Anora," Michael tried to reassure her.

"And when did you become an expert on this?" Anora panted viciously. "If that's all you can say, then get out."

Michael opened his mouth to protest, but then he saw the raw fear in her eyes as she desperately clasped his hand in her. So he just smiled and nodded at her.

As if in a dream, Michael heard some call on Anora to push again. Then her body tensed one more time and she released one last primeval scream before she collapsed on the bed drenched in sweat, and he felt her hand go limp in his. For a surreal moment Michael hid his face in his palm, fearing that something had gone terribly wrong. Then he heard a little cry of protest at the other end of the bed.

He squeezed Anora's delicate hand as hard as he dared. There was a chorus of words that meant nothing to him. Only three words could penetrate his mind.

"It's a girl!"

Soon a smiling midwife held a carefully wrapped little bundle for them to see. Then she put the baby on Anora's arm.

"There you are, you little monster," Anora whispered and smiled weakly.

The baby was still for a moment, then her face began to contort and she made a mewling sound.

"Something's wrong. Do something!" Anora said in panic.

Petra simply took the baby and held it, smiling. Michael heard a small gurgling sound and the baby coughed a few drops of liquid. Then Petra unceremoniously pulled down Queen Anora's gown and revealed one of her breasts.

Michael tried to hold back a tear as he saw Anora watch, with a mixture of anxiety and awe, as the baby began to feed.

He just sat there looking at them. Then the baby let go with its mouth and her head rolled to the side. In the moment his eyes met a pair of curious blue eyes, he knew his heart was lost forever.


	32. Beginnings and Ends

Chapter 32. Beginnings and Ends

"Are you ready, Ellie?" Michael asked his daughter as he peered into the dressing room.

"Yes, Dad," Princess Eleanor sighed as Erlina finished combing her hair.

"Good girl," her father said and smiled encouragingly.

Eleanor winced in annoyance as Erlina straightened her dress. She hated the fancy dresses her parents made her wear in public. They were uncomfortable and she could hardly move in them. She much preferred to run and play in looser dresses or even breeches.

Today was even worse. It was her seventh birthday and that meant that she would be officially introduced to the court as the heir to the throne. Everyone would be looking at her.

"Dad," she said pleadingly as Michael was about to leave her.

"Yes?"

"Do I really have to this?"

Michael smiled and hunched down in front of her.

"Yes, you do, pumpkin" he said and patted her cheek. "I told you being princess isn't always fun and games."

"It's never any fun," she replied, pouting.

"That's not true, and you know it. Think of all the wonderful toys and things you have that other children don't ever get."

Eleanor looked down unhappily.

"But I'm scared, Dad. Everyone'll look at me and Mom is always going on about being perfect. I know I'll do something wrong and she'll be mad at me."

Michael drew his daughter into his arms and hugged her.

"Don't worry, pumpkin. Mother and Father have a very important job to do, and so will you one day. But your mother still loves you very much. That's why she wants you to try so hard."

Eleanor clung to her father and sighed again.

"I know, but I'm still scared."

"You know, Ellie, I used to be nervous about appearing in court, too, sometimes. But then I learned a trick to not being so nervous."

"Oh?" Eleanor said wide eyed. "What?"

"You know how your mother is always very careful with acting properly when she is doing her important queen job. Well, I sometimes just paint a picture in my head where she's smiling and playing with her hair down, the way she sometimes does before bed. Then I pretend that's how she looks beside me, and I'm no longer nervous."

"Really?"

Michael nodded gravely and gave her a last hug.

"Be ready now, Ellie. I know you'll make us both proud."

Then her father left and Eleanor remained alone with Erlina.

When Erlina finally was satisfied, she took Eleanor's hand and walked with her down to the entrance to the throne room.

Eleanor closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. She tried to picture her mother as Dad had told her to - her hair loose, smiling and hugging her.

She listened to her mother's words coming from the big throne room on the other side of the huge door.

"My lords and ladies, it's now my great pleasure to introduce you all formally to Princess Eleanor, my heir and your future queen."

"Now, sweetheart," Erlina whispered.

Eleanor took a deep breath and entered the big hall to the thundering sound of blaring trumpets and wildly clapping hands.

Her back straight, she walked the long way between the cheering grownups. Her lip quivered a bit as she tried to concentrate on walking properly, the way her mother had showed her.

Her eyes sought her parents, standing in at the end of the long line of people. Her father smiled encouragingly, but her mother stood tall and straight, looking as severe as she always did in court.

She remembered her father's words and tried to replace the image of her mother in her mind with the smiling mom who hugged her good night.

When she reached her parents, she curtseyed and then fell to her knees, as Mom and Dad had taught her.

"My lords and ladies, Princess Eleanor," she heard her mother say loudly.

Eleanor rose. She tried to focus hard on the image in her mind and then she ran to the Queen and hugged her fiercely.

A chorus of amused laughter filled the room. Anora was first taken aback by Eleanor's hug, but then she smiled, embarrassed.

"There now," she said, clearing her throat. "Be good and turn to greet everyone."

Eleanor swallowed hard and nodded. Then she clasped Anora's hand and turned to face the greeting noblemen.

"Good girl," she heard her father say, encouragingly, over the sound of the cheering.

Michael stood beside his wife and daughter, his heart swelling with pride. As he saw little Ellie receiving cheers from the assembled noblemen he realized that he was truly part of a tale that was much bigger than him. One day, he would succumb to the Calling and walk away into the depths of the Deep Roads in search of his final destiny, but it wouldn't end there. It would continue without him. It would continue with his Eleanor and many others after her.

THE END


End file.
